


Redemption has Stories to Tell

by Acantha_Echo



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cameos from Sanders Shorts characters, Deal With the Devil, Deceit is a jerk in this too, Demon AU, Demon Deceit, Demon Logan, Demon Remy, Demon Virgil, Desire Demon - Freeform, Drunk Making Out, Envy demon, Fear demon - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Magic high, Morally Grey Deceit Sanders, Other, Patton knows how this will end, Remy does what he wants, Remy is Chaotic, Roman has a bad time, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Virgil is a moody teen, but his best isn't very good, but not at the same time, glutton demon, he is doing his best, he's kinda a bad guy, references to various underworld mythology, shame nobody is interested in listening to him, soul ownership, types of demon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2020-04-07 05:25:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19078363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acantha_Echo/pseuds/Acantha_Echo
Summary: For his 18th birthday, Roman Sanders had expected presents, getting drunk, maybe, in his wildest dreams, a car of his own. Not to be told his parents had sold their first born to a demon, payment to be collected on his birthday. Today. No matter what he might want from life, it seems as though his destiny is nothing more than to be dragged down to Hell.Virgil doesn’t want a human soul but he knows he doesn’t have a choice in the matter, not after his dad insisted and he finds the human not at all what he expected. Maybe this won’t be as terrible as he feared.And Remy? Well Remy just wants to make sure this human doesn’t steal what is his.But nothing can ever be that simple can it? Not when forces start to meddle in the very fabric of the Underworld and the group find themselves torn apart as new battlegrounds are forged and old secrets come bubbling to the surface.





	1. Meant to Live

**Author's Note:**

> So I’m back with another multi-chapter! This one has been in my head for about ten months now but I always put it off since the idea starts with Roman’s birthday and my little OCD brain insisted that meant if I was going to write it, I had to start posting it on his birthday. I expected to forget the idea but it kept poking me until eventually I gave in and started working on it a month or so ago. 
> 
> I have the first handful of chapters already written and I hope to keep a chapter or two ahead of posting but we shall see how that goes. And of course, happy birthday to the best dramatic darling prince of them all!
> 
> Please be aware this story features demons, devils, hell, the underworld, all that stuff. Control of humans thanks to soul contracts. And of course, there is a version of Deceit in this story. He’s not evil. But then he’s not good either. Certainly more among the sinners than the saints. 
> 
> I really hope you stick with me on this ride! 
> 
> Story title comes from _Dare You to Move_ by **Switchfoot** , which is seriously one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever listened to. If you ever listen to any of the songs I use, I highly recommend you give this one a listen. It might give you some ideas of to where the story is going too... 
> 
> Chapter title is from _Meant to Live_... by **Switchfoot**. Yeah, you’re gonna see a theme. Let’s see how long that lasts eh? They have done a lot of songs and so many lyrics seem fitting.

** **

### Meant to Live

** **

For his eighteenth birthday, Roman was expecting the sort of things that most kids his age got. A party, some money, maybe going out and getting super drunk now that he was legal. Probably a talk from his dad about how he was a ‘man’ now whatever that actually meant. Lots of broken up memories and then back to college to complete his degree, then get out there and see his name in lights. He was going to become a star, he was going to make it on Broadway and sing his heart out to thousands of adoring fans.

Roman had it all worked out and as excited as he was for his eighteenth birthday and the fact that it would be a day all about him - which was never a bad day in his eyes - it wasn’t the only important milestone in his life coming up or even the biggest one. He was still hopeful for some good presents of course, there were a couple of shows he was desperate to go and see, and Roman could only pray that his parents had gotten him tickets to one of them. 

In his wildest dreams, he was hoping for a car but Roman was more of a realist than either of his parents probably thought and he knew that there was no way they could actually afford one, not with all of any extra money going into helping him get his degree. Roman had tried to refuse the money, had gotten a part time job to help pay for college but they had been adamant that they wanted to support him and that he should focus all his attention on his studies. Roman wasn’t sure how he had managed to get such great parents, but he certainly wasn’t complaining - even if he did quite often feel guilt at the thought of what they had to be doing to help him afford college. 

So no, he didn’t think he was going to really get a car. Sure, he still _hoped_ for one, but he wasn’t going to be upset when his big day came and went without a new key to add to his keychain. 

Not when he got to at least spend some decent time with his family and really that was a gift in its own right. He had come back for the holidays, bringing a whole bag load of work that had to be done over the break and subconscious suspicions about the weird behaviour of his parents. That vague feeling had soon crystallised into a firm conviction that something very strange was going on and he was going to get to the bottom of it. 

His parents had been acting funny for months now. Looking back, Roman couldn’t quite remember when he had first noticed the shift in their behaviour, when it had become something worthy of noticing and not just his parents being them. They had always been a little funny, a little odd compared to his friends parents. His mother had always been a little more wild than other mothers he had seen, often blunt and to the point, the sort of women the rest probably all secretly wished they could be. She had never been afraid to speak her mind and tell someone when they were being an idiot just as she had never been shy of telling someone when they had done something good, when they deserved a hug or a kiss, a reminder of how proud she was of her son. 

His father had always said it was because she hadn’t grown up in America, but in Europe where her family had been in a position of real power once upon a time. Apparently they had lost that position a long time ago but a strain of the knowledge of power remained within them, a subconscious tic that influenced a lot of their behaviour. Roman could believe that, his mother had always been a Queen to him, someone to look up to, someone who was regal and sure of herself in a way that Roman envied. She had always promised that one day they would go and visit her family but somehow it had just never happened. 

His father was another matter completely. He had always been supportive of Roman, always agreed with him and let him make his own way. He guided him but he had never been like other parents Roman had known, had never demanded he be a mini me, the sort of son that he had already imagined in his head. Whereas most boys parents had pushed their sons into sport and nothing else, Roman’s father had taken a somewhat more laid back approach, had given Roman the tools and the chance to try various activities without ever once complaining. Even when Roman had temporarily really gotten into astronomy and so needed to go to events at two, three in the morning, his father had never once complained about having to get up for that time and drive him there and back.

As much as Roman had wanted to do sport and theatre, he had known that he wouldn’t be able to give both the focus that he so badly wanted to. It was be okay at both or possibly be stunning at one. And while Roman enjoyed football, it was nothing compared to the rush he felt whenever he stepped out onto the stage in the guise of another. 

Theatre it was. 

They had shown up to every performance, front and center, cheering and screaming their support with looks of utmost pride on their faces. They had been any child’s dream parents the day he had come out to them as Gay, his mother trying her best to look surprised but Roman by then was too good of an actor to be fooled by what was a very poor imitation of shocked innocence. They accepted him, they always had and that was the only thing that really mattered to Roman. 

Maybe they were odd by any ‘normal’ measuring scheme, maybe it was considered weird for but they were his parents and he loved them to death. He wouldn’t have them any other way. 

Their assumed oddity still didn’t explain their weird behaviour lately. 

For a start, they had insisted that he celebrated his birthday almost two weeks early, only a few days after he had gotten home. His mother had said it was because he had been late coming into the world and so she wanted to celebrate the day he was meant to arrive as well as the day he actually did which made no sense since she had never shown any interest in celebrating in that manner before but if it meant he got two birthday parties and two times he was the center of attention then he wasn’t going to really complain about it. 

Roman had caught his mother crying after the party. She claimed it was because she was so overcome with emotion, with pride and joy and the realisation that her baby boy was all grown up. That he really was about to turn eighteen and the years had just flown by in a few blinks. 

Maybe it was the truth. Or maybe she had just gotten better at lying to him over the years, and Roman wasn’t sure which unsettled him the most, that she would suddenly become so sentimental or that she was able to hide something important from him.

It wasn’t just the party that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end though. The weird behaviour went back earlier than that. Months and months of hushed meetings he had walked in on on the rare occasions he was home, stilted phone conversations and an unseen weight to every single word and glance. 

At the time, Roman had thought perhaps they were planning something super special for his birthday. Perhaps he was actually getting a car. Then his thoughts had turned less positive because Roman was an actor at heart with dreams of being on Broadway. He could tell when someone was pretending to be happy and although he couldn’t work out any details or point to any one moment to prove his theory, he knew the truth.

For whatever reason, his parents weren’t happy. 

Were they fighting? 

Was one of them ill?

Did they have money troubles because Roman had selfishly let them help him?

The possibilities felt endless and along with being an actor, he was a creator, he lived and breathed new ideas, spinning world after world of new events. It wasn’t hard to take what little information he had and leap to possibly the worst conclusions possible. Something was going on, something bad and it was driving him mad that he didn’t know _what_. 

Roman woke up on the morning of his birthday with what felt like a dozen rocks settled awkwardly in his stomach, a weight that he couldn’t seem to dispel. It was his birthday, it was meant to be a good day and yet dread seemed to lurk at the back of every thought. The feeling of unease carried on throughout the day, a doom that only seemed to grow more intense whenever he caught one of his parents looking in his direction with deep sorrow instead of joy. They were meant to be happy on this day of all days.

So was he. Not tormented by some unknown dread, nerves which coiled in his stomach as though snakes had strangled any butterflies that might reside there. 

There was going to be a party later tonight. His parents had wanted his friends to throw it earlier in the day, and they had pushed for that, had seemed so determined for it but some of them were out of town and wouldn’t be back until later. Roman wasn’t going to celebrate his birthday without all of _them_. He only turned eighteen once after all and he wanted all the important people in his life to be there, no matter what weird excuses his father had as to why they should hold it sooner.

Roman had held firm and eventually they had accepted defeat, although his father had looked almost unbearably sad at knowing it would be in the evening. Try as Roman might, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, his mind twisting and turning in on itself as he futility struggled to come up with any explanation as to their behaviour. 

He needed to talk to them. All this dancing around the subject was driving him mad and Roman couldn’t get through another moment like this. He certainly couldn’t imagine enjoying his party with the worry about what was really going on lingering in the back of his mind. Roman was brave. He could do this. No matter what the outcome might be. At least he would know the truth and once he had that, Roman could face it. He would be able to overcome it. 

A plan always made things easier, even when the plan was as vague and ill thought out as this one. At least it was something, Roman placing down the script he had been failing to read down on the bed and heading downstairs. 

Carefully, he crept down the stairs of the family home. Growing up in this house had taught him how to be sneaky, which stairs made noises and which sides he could safely step on to avoid any telltale creaks which would betray him. Roman had eaten more than his fair share of midnight snacks thanks to this knowledge and it was coming in handy once more. At the bottom of the stairs he turned and started stealthy creeping along to the kitchen. A low murmur of voices came to his ears as he moved close.

“-e should have told him years ago Ailsa, not waited until the very last day, the very last moment. It’s cruel.”

That was his father’s voice. Roman tried to hold his breath as he inched forward, acutely aware of every tiny little noise that he made, and even his breathing sounded awfully loud now that he was this close to finding out the truth. It was hard to stop breathing, move and listen all at the same time, so perhaps it wasn’t too surprising that he couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

“Told him? How could we have had that conversation? How could we have possibly explained what we did to him in a way that he would have understood? It was better to wait.” 

His mother now, Roman frowning a little as he listened, trying to understand what on earth they were talking about. It sounded as if he was the reason they were so upset? 

What had he done? 

Sure, he had gotten into his fair share of trouble over the years, and had probably caused them all manner of heartache and worry because he was their son and that was what kids tended to do. But Roman couldn’t think of anything serious, anything really bad. He was a pretty good kid, all things considered and it didn’t sit right with him to think he had caused them any real kind of pain.

Not to mention their words didn’t make sense if they were upset at him. It seemed more about him but somehow separate from anything he had done. They sounded upset rather than angry at him. At least his father did. His mother seemed to be wavering on the line between furious and devastated, he could hear the waver and crack in her voice in almost every word.

His heart was thudding against his rib-cage, and it was a wonder they couldn’t hear that, it was louder even than the wheezing gasps of air he could hear as he tried - and failed - to be quiet. 

Both of them seemed too caught up in their own argument to notice though, Roman finally reaching the edge of the doorway and peering through the gap at them. They were stood in the kitchen face to face. His mother was standing with her back to him, arms moving as she spoke, each word accompanied by a sharp gesture but he couldn’t see her face, her expression. His dad’s face was angled a little away from her, gaze half on the countertop beside them both.

Roman wished he couldn’t see his father’s expression. He looked defeated, as if they were talking about something truly serious. Even from this distance and through the glasses he was wearing, it was easy to see the pain in his father’s pale brown eyes, the playful spark he associated with the older man nowhere to be seen. Roman couldn’t help but inch just a fraction further out of cover, trying to get a better view as if the rest of the empty kitchen would somehow provide the clues he needed to understand what on earth was happening.

It was a good thing they were too focused on what they were fighting about, otherwise his dad would have surely have seen him out of the corner of his eye. Roman had never been the greatest at subtlety. As it was, they both carried on talking, his dad’s tone slipping into something resigned, pained. 

“And this way is better? It would have given him time to prepare at least, it would have let him try to come to terms with it, rather than just letting... that thing show up and take what it wants.” 

Thing? What thing? Take what? Did they owe a loan shark some money? It sounded impossible but then before the last few months he would have thought spying on his parents to uncover some truth instead of being able to talk to them face to face. They had always been a weird family in that they had actually liked each other, had been able to sit down and have conversations about the hard things. 

Roman had never thought he had taken it for granted, he looked at some of his friends relationships with their parents and counted himself truly blessed. They gave him a safe haven from which to start from and Roman had never stopped being aware and grateful for it. 

Now that port was gone and he was lost in strange waters. 

Maybe they had taken out a loan? Maybe the bank had refused them and in desperation they had turned to some shady figure from the underworld and now it was time to repay it with interest or else... or else something bad? Something involving him it seemed and while it did still sound like something out a cheap thriller paperback, that didn't make it impossible.

People made foolhardy deals they couldn't pay all time to try and get out the problem of the moment. He wouldn't have counted his parents among those sorts of people but Roman couldn't ignore the evidence that was building up with each passing second. Roman knew he should have gotten a job and just managed. He should have refused the money and not given in. Why had he given in? Why had he let himself believe that they could somehow manage to support his education on top of everything else? 

“Time to prepare? To come to terms? That implies that we have given up and I have _never_ given up on finding some way to save him. I will never give up. There has to be a way, something we can do to stop this James.” 

“We have been searching for over twenty years, if there is an answer don’t you think one of us would have found it by now? Maybe if you had tried harder to convince your parents to give us access to their library then we wouldn’t be in this mess to start with!” 

“That isn’t fair James! Don’t you dare say I didn’t give everything I could to try and get the answers we needed. I ripped my family apart for you and I would do it again for our own family if I for one second thought we could get what we need from it.” 

As Roman watched, his dad’s shoulder slumped, almost as though the words had actually hit him instead of merely being spoken aloud. He seemed to physically age ten years in a matter of seconds, looking so unbearably sad that it physically caused an ache in his heart. Roman had never imagined it would be possible to look at his father and feel this much pain. 

James reached out, hand catching one of Ailsa’s own which were still moving in rapid little angry motions, each word accompanied by a point and jab. Her hand looked so pale against his much darker one, and Roman was almost convinced he wasn’t imagining it, that she really was so white. Even in sorrow, she was beautiful, his throat closing up a little as he stared at her, so pale, so lost.

“I’m sorry. It's not your fault they are who they are and couldn’t accept us,” James told her softly. Ailsa’s only response was a sharp intake of breath, the noise almost cutting through the air. Roman’s frown grew as he listened and this was making less and less sense. He felt more confused than he did before he had decided to eavesdrop. The urge to just stride in there and demand answers was almost overwhelming but they were talking about a secret to do with him. A secret that couldn’t be a loan shark, because why would they have needed money that long ago and only now have to worry about the outcome. 

Plus, from the way they were talking, it was as though his mother’s family didn’t approve of them. Was that why they had never visited? Nothing to do with time but everything to do with the fact that they wouldn’t be welcome? He hoped they weren’t mad because James was just an American boy and they were quasi royal. 

Roman loved being almost but not quite royalty. He had spent a whole summer dressed as a prince and refused to get out of the outfit. His mother had found it hilarious and even his father had merely rolled his eyes but he went out and got him a wooden sword the next day. If it turned out they didn’t approve of his father simply because he wasn’t royal, then Roman was going to have to give up all his princey outfits, crowns and behaviour. He would hate that but it was something he would do in a flash. What was fake royalty - or even real royalty - compared to family? How could they have ever picked anything over their daughter and the man she loved?

“We are out of time. _He_ is out of time Ailsa. He deserves to face it head on. Let him have that.” 

“I am not going to lose my baby boy to some... some... jumped up bailiff who thinks he can just march in here and take him!” She shook her head as she spoke, long dark hair bouncing this way and that with the motion. It was almost mesmerising and any other time Roman might have allowed himself to do just that and let her relax him. Not this time though. He couldn’t afford it this time and Roman couldn’t take hiding in the shadows any longer. They were talking about him and from the way they were talking, it was as though he was going to die or something ridiculous. As it he was somehow the collateral in whatever debt they owed. 

He needed to know what they meant, his brain spinning all manner of ridiculous ideas the longer he stood there. It was time to be a hero, Roman straightening up and striding into the room without any further delay, making sure his footsteps were loud and confident. Even if he didn’t personally feel that, he knew he had to act it. Fake it, till you make it.

“Mother. Father.” 

“Roman! How... um... how much did you hear son?” Somehow, impossibly, his mother’s face had managed to turn a few shades whiter as she spun to look at him with a mixture of horror and fear. Another expression to add to the list of ones that he had never wanted to see on his parent’s face, Roman’s jaw tensing tightly as he stared at them both and tried to disguise his own hurt and confusion that they would be hiding something apparently important from him. 

“Not enough. What is going on?”

“Going on?” His mother’s smile was pained and wasn’t one of her best. He couldn’t help but feel a little insulted that she was trying to lie to him after all this time, after she knew he had heard _something_. “Why would anything be going on Roman?”

“Oh for the love of- Ailsa we have to tell him. It’s time. Stop this foolishness,” his father snapped, lifting a hand to run through greying hair in an agitated fashion, something so familiar it made Roman’s heart hurt in a completely different way. 

It was the one thing he understood in this alien landscape, a comforting motion that promised the way home if only he were to follow it. Everything else was confusing, but here was a little reminder that this was still his father, that he was still the man Roman knew and loved so much. Not _everything_ was different after all and the hand in hair was almost enough to distract him from the situation. Almost. 

Roman had never heard his father to use such a tone with his mother before, they weren’t the sort of couple that fought. They had disagreements sure, silly little arguments but nothing serious, nothing like this. He wasn’t really sure what he expected to happen next. His mother to rise up to her - admittedly not very tall - height and snap back? For it to devolve into the kind of shouting match that so many of his friends had been forced to witness with their parents? For her to retreat into somewhere cold and unforgiving where his father wouldn’t be able to follow? He didn’t expect his mother’s face to crumple into one of utter agony or break down into tears, hands lifting to press against her face as her shoulders shook uncontrollably. 

Helplessly, he turned to look at his father, silently begging for answers and for him to comfort his mother, to make all this pain go away. Roman was sorry he asked, sorry he had pushed because whatever it was, it couldn’t be anything good. 

The older man slowly pulled off his glasses, absently cleaning the lenses. He tended to do that whenever he was trying to find the words to explain something, when he was groping in the dark and needed an extra few seconds to try and work out how to say something. Roman could feel a weight in his chest, like an impossibly heavy rock pressing down on him. It was getting heavier and heavier by the second, gravity weighing more on it, battling against his need to breathe. 

Something was coming, something terrible and inescapable. Maybe it was just Roman being over dramatic as he was wont to be, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this birthday was going to turn out to be far more important than simply him reaching official ‘adulthood’. Whatever that actually meant in practise. There was something else here in the air around them, an electric shock that he could all but stick out his tongue and taste. Unconsciously, Roman leaned forward a fraction, eyes wide as he waited with baited breath. His father slipped the glasses back on his face, expression solemn. 

“We... we made a deal with a demon and the price demanded was our first born... was you.”

Whatever Roman had been expecting, it had never even come close to that. 

“... okay, you got me,” Roman stated, giving them both a wobbly smile. “This is some ridiculous birthday prank right?”

Except his mother was crying. She had never been one to show her feelings so openly, she was the steel of the family, the backbone that the rest of them used as their lodestar. She gave them strength without hesitation, openly offering them her power and always ready to shift into a furious mother bear who would rage rather than wail. She was tough and soft, quite often at the same time, but she would never weep so openly. And never over something silly like some badly thought out joke. 

And now she was _crying_. Just like on his early birthday. 

“This is a joke? I mean... it has to be a joke. Dad... please, tell me it is a joke,” Roman asked faintly, brown eyes darting from parent to parent, wondering when they would drop the act. It wasn't like them to pull this sort of prank and it certainly wasn't like them to keep going. His stomach dropped away, breath knocked from him and for a moment he was balanced on the edge of some huge chasm, too deep and dark for him to see the bottom. Because if this wasn’t a joke, if they weren’t lying then that meant- that meant... but that was impossible, surely? 

“I am so sorry my son,” his mother told him, tears still following freely. If nothing else, he wished she would stop crying, it wasn’t right when she cried. It felt as if Roman’s whole world was spinning dramatically on its axis by the sight of that alone and he could barely focus on anything else when he looked at her. “This is not the fate I wanted for you.” 

“Lies,” a voice stated, a voice that Roman didn’t know, all three of them jumping slightly. Roman spun on the spot, mouth dropping open at the sight of someone new in the kitchen. Someone who certainly hadn’t been there a second ago and Roman’s attention might have been distracted by the bizarre and impossible conversation but he wouldn’t have missed him.

There was a young man with dark purple, almost black hair sat on the counter top, one knee drawn up almost against his chest, the other leg dangling freely down the side. His black checked hoodie seemed to almost swamp his frame, making it impossible to tell what he actually looked like under it, if he was thin or well built. The dark fabric seemed to fold in on itself, creating a black hole that made something itch at the back of his skull, his mind begging him to look away. 

“Oh I’m sorry, was I not wanted at this exact second?” He flashed them all a bright and altogether too sharp a smile before glancing down at his phone and playing with the screen, apparently completely enthralled by whatever he was looking at. The light threw his face into even greater contrast, all sharp angles and deep shadows. His eyes seemed sunken into his face, or perhaps it was simply yet more shadows, darkness under those deep purple eyes that had to be thanks to contact lenses surely? 

“Who the heck are you? And what do you mean lies?” Roman was trying not to freak out too badly at the way this day was going, but it was hard to remain calm when a stranger had apparently magically appeared in his kitchen and was now joining in on the conversation as if this was a perfectly normal subject they were talking about. Not to mention the subject as a whole.

It was almost as though the world really had magic in it and sure Roman had always wanted to live in a world with magic, with supernatural beings. He had dreamed of getting his letter to Hogwarts, had even half hoped that his mother's European heritage would mean he went there. Roman had been more disappointed than he was willing to admit when his eleventh birthday had come and passed without that letter. 

There was still the thought of other magic, of being able to bend elements, maybe fairies or talking animals. Some grand adventure just waiting to be uncovered and that was something Roman very much yearned for, no matter how childish those wishes were. It couldn't hurt to hold them in his heart, to keep his mind open to the possibility of something beyond this world.

Demons though? Demons were not the sort of supernatural he wanted in his life. Hell and brimstone and all that terrible, unpleasant stuff that came with them. Demons couldn’t be real because if they were... then what else? Vampires? Werewolves? Sirens? Angels? 

No, this whole thing was just ridiculous. It had to be ridiculous.

Except there was a boy about his age in his kitchen, sat on the counter who hadn't walked in. One with impossible eyes and a crooked smirk that spoke of hidden knowledge. One that agreed with his parents not funny ‘joke’ and Roman knew his parents - they would never go to this length to try and make him swallow a lie. They wouldn't lie to him at all, not even for a joke so what... this was real? The reality though seemed to much to believe.

“I’m just saying,” the stranger replied at last with a casual shrug, eyes still fixed on the phone in his hand, fingers tapping lightly over the screen. “If they really didn’t want this to be your destiny or whatever, then maybe they shouldn’t have sold their first born to a demon? Seems pretty obvious to me, but then what do I know? I’m just a demon myself after all.”


	2. Oceans Trapped in your Eyelids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The road to hell may be paved with good intentions but regardless of his attitude Roman is heading right there._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to chapter two! Thank you so much for all the lovely comments and kudos, I am always so so nervous whenever I post a new story and it really means everything to know that you’ve all been enjoying this. Please keep telling me what you think of it. 
> 
> I am so sorry to everyone who is subbed to this and got about three alerts, I was having weird issues with the date format and it kept misbehaving on me.
> 
> Time for Roman to have a trip of a lifetime! 
> 
> Chapter title is from _Voices_ by **Switchfoot**.

** **

### Oceans Trapped in your Eyelids

** **

A demon.

Did... had... the other boy had said he was... a demon. And what was worse, was that neither of his parents had batted an eyelid at that, only by the fact that he was here at all. Roman was struggling but he had to admit, there didn’t seem to be any other answer beyond the fact that demons were real and he was looking at one. A mostly normal looking boy bar his eyes. Reasonably attractive if moody emos were your thing, but still just a boy. Nothing special. 

“We didn’t think it would rebound back on us like this!” Roman’s father snapped. The older man had taken a step forward and a little to the side, as if trying to block the demon from view. Or perhaps the other way around. 

“Ailsa and I thought... we thought...” he trailed off, glancing back at his wife and along with the fear, Roman could see such love in his eyes. After all this time, they still loved each other so very much and he had always thought of his parents as a storm, twin hurricanes raging against the world. Nothing seemed to stop them, nothing could come close to matching the intensity of their love for each other. Roman had always longed to find a love like that of his own, that special someone who he would tear down mountains for and know they would do the same. 

Now it was starting to look as if he might never get that chance. 

“We thought I was incapable of bearing a child,” Ailsa finished, one hand reaching out to grasp her husband’s hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“Oooh,” the demon drawled, phone turned off and slipped into his pocket. He leaned forward, chin resting on his knuckles, attention fixed on his father. Roman didn’t like that, not one bit. There was a dangerous gleam in those unnatural eyes, and if anyone was in danger it should be him, not the people he loved. 

“You thought you could trick a demon? Yeah, that sounds like a wise idea. You’re lucky you were wrong and you had a kid, because deliberately going into a deal you are knowingly incapable of fulfilling? I would not have liked to be in your shoes.” 

“Who are you anyway?” Ailsa asked, her eyes narrowed, attention shifting from what had been to what now was. Her gaze was almost calculated as she examined the young looking male still on her counter top, tears no longer flowing. Roman didn’t understand what she was doing, why she would wait until now to ask such a question and surely she already knew the answer? 

The demon lifted a hand to press it against his chest as though deeply offended, a somewhat mocking smile on his lips.

“You don’t recognise me? I’m hurt. I’m the demon you made the deal all those years ago with and I’ve come to collect. Happy Birthday Roman.”

“No... no you’re not him.”

“We can shape shift. You think this is my real form? I’m just trying to be kind is all. You mortal minds couldn’t handle my true form, yadda, yadda, yadda.” 

“You’re not him,” Ailsa repeated, more firmly this time, head held high. She glared at the demon in undisguised contempt, taking another slow step towards him. Any trace of fear Ailsa might have had was long since gone and in its place was an icy anger. An anger that the demon seemed more than capable of matching, the youthful looking male slipping gracefully down from the counter. He almost floated as he moved, gliding up to meet Roman’s mother face to face. 

He was... shorter than Roman had expected. Shorter than him at least and now that he was standing, it was easier to see a vague outline under the oversized hoodie, to realise that he was truly lanky, almost unnaturally so. Plus, they could shape shift. Yet this was the form he chose to show them? Hardly a threatening looking person and yet Roman had long ago learned not to take people at face value. 

Throughout the whole interaction, Roman had simply stood there, had let his father try and protect him, had let his mother attempt to outtalk the monster. He was letting them fight his battle and that didn’t sit right with Roman. True, he might not understand exactly what this battle was or how he could come close to winning it, but that didn’t excuse his cowardice. If only he knew what else to do. 

The demon clicked his fingers, a long and thin scroll suddenly appearing in his hand with a flicker of flames. Roman couldn’t help but jump a little at the sight, eyes growing wide. He had seen magic tricks in his time but somehow that didn't look like any of the sleight of hand he had witnessed before. It almost looked... it almost looked as though it had been real. Those flames had been real. The scroll itself was certainly real, Roman leaning forward and to the side a little in order to try and get a closer look at the object in the other boy’s hand. 

It felt... familiar to him somehow. As if he knew the pale cream scroll intimately, as if it was part of him that he had only just realised was lost and ached to regain. Which was crazy, he had never seen it before and it was just a piece of paper rolled up. Why would it be anything important? 

“Doesn’t matter who I am now does it? Because I have _this_ , which means I have him. Full body and mental possession of your first born child upon he, her, them or other reaching their eighteenth year,” the demon almost recited, twirling the scroll casually in his fingers as if it were a baton or something similar. Roman felt his heart leap into his mouth every time it spun and looked seconds away from falling to the ground. He couldn’t help but feel protective towards it for some bizarre reason.

“What are you going to do to him?” James asked, his own eyes never leaving the scroll as the demon effortlessly taunted them. The smirk on the dark haired boy’s face only grew wider and Roman was pretty sure he was enjoying this. It made him hate the demon boy, his fingers itching to curl into a fist and land it right into one of those purple eyes. He could probably take him in a fight. At least long enough to grab that scroll off him and Roman didn’t know why but he really wanted to get that thing away from the demon. 

“That is for me to know and you to find out, oh... never. Go and get your things Roman, we have places to be. Or at least I do.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going anywhere with you,” Roman snapped and enough was enough. Demon or not, he wasn’t going to just let himself get... get what exactly? Get kidnapped? It felt as though that was what was happening. The demon seemed to expect him to just pack up and leave, to go somewhere completely new and unknown, somewhere dangerous. 

He wasn’t going to walk to his slaughter. 

“I can make you,” the demon threatened, purple eyes staring deep into Roman’s brown ones. He slipped past Roman’s mother as if she were nothing, weaving through the room in a second to suddenly be directly in front of Roman. “Please, don’t make me prove it.” 

Perhaps Roman was just imagining it, but he could have sworn that the words came across more as an honest plea rather than a threat, as if the demon didn’t want to do this. What? Where had the smirking horrible demon gone, the one he had felt no hesitation in hating and had wanted to punch squarely in his face? The male who stopped in front of him seemed to almost begging that he do as he was told - and there was the rub. Even if Roman wanted to do it, which he didn’t, there was no way he was going to do anything he was ordered to like some dumb dog.

Roman titled his chin up, arms crossed, his defiance clear without a single word being spoken. This was his _home_. Why would he ever want to leave against his will? For a beat, nothing happened, the pair simply staring at each other. 

“Fine,” the demon suddenly snapped, eyes narrowing spitefully. Fingers curled around the scroll, tightening his grip on it, the parchment crinkling under the pressure. His stomach dropped at the movement, almost feeling himself tense. Ridiculous, ridiculous, this whole thing was ridiculous and he didn’t understand why he was taking it so seriously. It was just a piece of paper at the end of the day and this boy was just one person against the three of them. Why hadn’t they just called the cops? 

“Roman T. Sanders, I order you to go quietly upstairs and pack of a bag of things you feel you most need for a trip away from home. _**Quickly**_.” 

Roman opened his mouth to laugh at him, to tell this so called demon exactly what he thought of his order and ask if that was all he had, his grand plan was adding the word order and to make his voice grow deeper for a single word. As though that was going to scare him into doing what he wanted. 

Instead Roman found himself turning on his heel and slipping away from the kitchen, marching rapidly through the house and back up the stairs he had crept down what felt like a lifetime ago. No matter how hard he tried to, Roman couldn’t make himself stop moving. It was as though his whole body had slipped into autopilot and no matter what he thought or how hard he grabbed at door frames as he passed, there didn’t seem to be any way to prevent himself from carrying out the order the purple eyed monster had given him. 

It was as though the demon child had completely hijacked control of his body and was taking it for a joy ride. 

Tears blurred his vision as he felt himself start to throw clothes into a bag but they were angry tears, frustrated tears. Roman couldn’t control his hands either and it made him rage, kicking and screaming in his mind even as he pulled open his closet, dumping various items into the two suitcases he had pulled out from under his bed. Distantly, Roman noticed they were the ones his father had surprised him with last week, large and lightweight, perfect replacements for the tatty ones he had been using to and from college previously. 

His parents had bought him brand new luggage just a week before his birthday. 

Roman wasn’t sure what to really made of that. Coincidence? Hoping that he would be able to use them for collage as he had planned? Or a silent admission that they knew there was no way around this and they were just trying to make things as easy for him as possible? He could fit a lot more into them than he could in his old ones, favourite clothes, books, keepsakes all being piled high. His body seemed to know exactly what he would have normally chosen to take no matter his mind’s silent protests. 

All too soon he was dragging the two suitcases and bulging backpack down the stairs and back into the kitchen. Roman would have probably packed more if he had the arms for it and there was so much he had left behind, so much he would miss but there had only been room for a certain number of things and the demon had told him to pack for a trip. 

Some part of him couldn’t believe he was thinking like that but then right now it seemed as if he had little choice. When that boy held the scroll it seemed as if he could say whatever he liked and Roman would jump on command. Roman liked to think of himself as a very imaginative person, always spinning so many different threads in his mind, different ideas about everything and yet he couldn’t come up with any way out of this mess. What could he do against something that could compel his body to do whatever it damn well pleased? 

The demon was engrossed in his phone once more, the harsh blue light of the screen reflected onto his face as he stared down at it, the very tip of his tongue flicking out between his lips as he tapped away. Whatever it was had to be pretty important because he appeared to be completely oblivious to the death glares being sent his way by Roman’s parents or the way James hand his hand lightly on Ailsa arm to try and calm her.

A couple of broken plates lay scattered on the ground between them, as if they had hit an invisible wall and shattered. Perhaps not so oblivious after all and Roman didn’t know which of his parents had thrown them - almost certainly his mother. Roman couldn’t help but feel a little envious at that, at how she had been able to let lose her anger and frustration. He still felt wrapped up in the power of the demon’s words, bound by the instruction to be quiet, unable to rant and scream as he wished. 

Purple eyes flicked up to glance at Roman for a moment, taking in the sullen face and the fact that he had actually returned with the desired suitcases. 

“You can... uh... you can say goodbye. If you want.” The demon was back to looking almost unsure of himself and Roman didn’t understand why he was behaviour so... off. Everytime Roman thought he had gotten a handle on what he was like - cruel spiteful, trying to get a rise out of his parents or himself just for the fun of it - he then twisted everything on its head by softening and giving him this chance when he didn’t need to. The demon held all the power here, and what's more it clearly knew it. 

Roman had watched Beauty and the Beast, the kidnapper was under no pressure to let them have a goodbye if he didn’t want to. It was under no pressure to do anything and yet he took a step backwards to allow Roman to move closer, his fingers still tapping quietly against the screen of his phone as he apparently texted someone. They had phones in hell? 

His mind was buzzing with questions from the ridiculous to the sublime and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t pick where to start because his mother was suddenly in front of him, peppering his face with kisses.

“This isn’t goodbye,” his mother vowed. She pulled back a fraction, hands on his shoulder to look deep in his eyes with an intense stare. “I swear Roman, I swear we are going to get you out of this. You stay strong, you stay alive and you don’t _trust_ a word out of his mouth. No matter what he tries to promise you or how he tries to trick you.”

Roman wallowed heavily, biting down the confusion and anger. Some part of him couldn’t help but think it was all very well for her to start giving him advice now. His father had been right, it would have been better to tell him sooner. Even if he wouldn’t have believed them at first, if he knew the rules he could understand how to beat his enemies, but now he was just too lost to even know where to start. The demon already could control him, he had demonstrated that to chilling effect. How could he trick him further? How could she think he would even start to trust him? She stepped back after a pause, his father moving into her place. 

“I love you Roman,” James whispered, wrapping him in a fierce hug. “Like your mother said, stay strong, we are going to sort this.” 

Oh how he wished he could believe that. For so long he had believed that his parents knew best and while they might not know _everything_ they still came pretty close. And now they knew nothing, Roman’s hands creeping up to hug him back, trying to pour everything he felt into that embrace, everything he couldn’t quite bring himself to say, the good and the bad.

“Okay, that is enough of that, lets go before I vomit.” 

Enough? That hadn’t been nearly enough time and how could it ever have been enough time to say everything that had to be said. Roman hadn’t even said anything, a sob working its way up through the lump in his throat. For a moment he was thrown into a feeling of pure, blind panic, everything clicking horribly into place.

This was real. 

This was _real_. He was being kidnapped by a demon and was about to be dragged off to hell or whatever. And then... what? Tortured for eternity? That was what happened to souls owned by demons right? But then why had it told him to pack if that was going to be his fate? He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to do this, to go wherever the purple eyed demon was going to take him. He wanted to go to college, he wanted to get drunk before he was meant to, he wanted to explore the world, to see Europe for the first time. He wanted to see his own name lit up in front of him and know that other people knew it, that they loved him and his work. 

The world spun around him, leaving Roman breathless and dizzy, as though standing at the edge of a precipice of pure darkness and Roman didn’t want to die. What else could this monster offer him but death?

His parents stumbled backwards from him as though burnt, leaving a clear gap between them. 

“What are you doing to them?” Roman demanded, eyes wide. He tried to move after them, managing only two steps before he reached an invisible wall. No matter how he pressed and pushed, it was impossible to get beyond it and return to the previous safety of their embraces. His mother was mere inches away and yet she couldn’t close the gap either, couldn’t move beyond the barrier that separated them. Her hand pressed against the space of his own, Roman’s eyes brimming with tears as he tried so hard to hold her one last time.

She was saying... something. Roman could see her mouth moving but no sound seemed to escape. Or was it no sound could reach him? 

“It’s just a little bubble for us both. Can’t have them trying to interfere now can we? It’s a dangerous trip, try and mess around with it and well... someone might lose a limb,” The demon explained lazily, one hand lifting absently to wave in their vague direction as he spoke. There was a slight lift and lilt to his voice as he spoke those last words, something menacing in the undertone. 

By someone, Roman could only assume the demon meant one of them. He was threatening his parents? It wasn’t enough that the demon was going to kidnap him and do god knew what to him, he had to threaten his parents as well? Roman scowled, his own fear wiped away in an instance by the protective fury of his rage.

The male stepped closer, hand still holding the scroll and Roman could almost feel hot fingers around his neck now that he allowed himself to think about it. Not that it changed his anger at all, if anything, it only made it worse to know how utterly helpless he really was.

This close, Roman could see all manner of shades of purple within those irises, flashes of colour as he stared deeply into them. They were almost beautiful, in an abstract fashion and he hated himself for thinking that. It didn’t change the truth though or the way Roman couldn’t quite bring himself to look away. Even his parents seemed to fade a little from his thoughts, as though everything outside the bubble was gradually ceasing to be important. 

“Close your eyes,” the demon breathed, words fluttering lightly against Roman's cheek and no, he hadn't been imagining it, this demon really was shorter than him, almost nestling against his neck and chest as he pressed close. Far too close for comfort but what could he do? Roman wasn't foolish enough to think he could just pull away. All he could do was focus on the words themselves.

That wasn’t an order. Roman didn’t feel that weight pressing down on him that he had before, that impossible to ignore urge that had overridden any logical desires or wants, the one that had made him a puppet on a string. 

It wasn’t an order and so he wasn’t going to do it.

The demon didn’t seem to notice, one hand taking his own, Roman flinching at the contact. After the sensation of heat against his neck he would have expected the actual hand to be burning hot. Instead it felt cool. Refreshing almost, like slipping into something more comfortable after a long hard day.

As Roman watched, the demon closed his eyes, face screwing up in concentration.

The scroll vanished from his hand, free fingers shifting forward to slide around Roman's hip. He knew he should pull away in disgust, but something about the gentle hold kept him pinned effortlessly in place. Just like the eyes, he felt trapped in a way completely independent of the actual power the scroll had over him. There was a danger here, something beside the demon himself, the words of warning, the threat still lurking in his mind, the whole reason that the demon had cast this bubble around them in the first place. 

Roman opened his mouth to ask what on earth the demon thought he was playing at, what he was going to do when the soft crackle of fire came to his ears, a whisper at first, a soft tickle at the back of his mind and throat before it came over them like an inferno. A ring of flame suddenly burst into life around them, scorching its way deep into the wood panelling of the kitchen. It flickered to knee height level, the tips of the flames dancing hungrily, shifting and weaving as though it was alive and glorying in being set free. 

The sight was enough to drag his attention away from the angelic face of the demon - a terrible contradiction in words if ever he thought one and yet one that somehow seemed to fit the stranger - and focus on the flames themselves. Roman swallowed heavily at the sight, mouth snapping shut. He couldn’t help but slightly regret his choice to keep his eyes open. But no, he had made his choice and he had to stay strong, he couldn’t give in now just because fire had appeared out of nowhere. It was close enough that if he wanted to, Roman could reach out and touch it and yet he didn’t feel any heat coming from the fire. This wasn’t normal fire. 

As if anything about this had been normal. 

An unpleasant sensation grew in the pit of his stomach as if something had curled around his insides and started to tug - hard. The intensity of the pull increased with each passing second, Roman biting down on his lip in order to keep quiet and he wouldn’t let some discomfort defeat him, The grip the demon had on him was tightening too, fingers curling further around him in time to the deepening scowl as it seemed to try even harder to... well, do whatever it was that the demon was attempting to do. 

The wooden floor dropped away with a whoosh, more flames racing up to meet them.

There wasn't time to even wonder about the flames, to wonder about anything because all of a sudden they were falling.

They were spinning down through the earth, Roman instantly pressing himself tighter against the demon as they dropped, clinging on tight as though holding him would somehow protect him. Almost as though he was on fire, his mind and skin burning as he watched thousands of split second moments all at once. It was as though he was every soul they fell past, experiencing their punishment as they went deeper into hell.

He was the man who was forced to stand in a river of water with fruit overhead only to have the food and drink shrink from his touch, constantly tortured by the need for substance but never allowed it. He was the one who had to push a rock up a hill, feeling it dig and cut into his skin, only for the boulder to bounce back down the other side so his job was never done. His skin was burning away, tried to an endless flaming wheel that spun without rest. His liver was being pecked out and devoured. He felt the whip lash against his back, skin splitting apart. He was all of these and so many more, his voice stolen from him as they sped past the horrors, unable to even scream. 

Feet connected to the ground, Roman jerking and gasping, as if he had been submerged in a fiery bath and only just now coming out to breathe. The images shattered around him, potent moments of pain vanishing as if they had never been there, leaving him with nothing but their ghostly presence, the memory of what had just been interfering with the now. 

He felt so lightheaded. So... awful. He wanted to throw up and scream all at the same time. The sights of the trip pressed against his mind like after images burned into the ground, a flash fire of what had once been and it shook him down to his core. Roman could do nothing but sag into the surprisingly strong embrace of the demon, let him support him as he whimpered and shook. All thoughts of remaining strong were lost in the haze of pain and illness, in the struggle to push away the images and focus on what he knew - thought - to be real. The feel of arms supporting him, one snaked around his back, the other lifting to press a hand against his forehead as though they would tell him anything.

The hand was as cool as before, blissfully so, Roman unconsciously leaning into to try and chase away the feeling of phantom flames that still licked against his skin.

“I told you to close your eyes... why didn’t you close your eyes, why did you have to be so damn proud?” The demon sounded more panicked than angry or amused, the two emotions he would have expected when it realised he hadn’t obeyed him. Roman wasn’t some trained dog, he wasn't going to just accept anything he was told and behave. That wasn't his way and maybe it would have been smart to just do as he was told. But that would have given the demon completely the wrong impression as to what sort of person Roman was. He would fight and snarl and resist to the bitter end.

Right now however, he sort of wished he had listened.

Roman couldn’t do anything but make a faint little whimper of pain and confusion. His mind felt as though it was being ripped apart at the seams and as soothing as the touch was, it only offered him relief in his forehead, the rest of his body still screaming out in agony. 

“Antagonist is going to have a field day when he senses you, we’re going to have to be extra careful.”

It was getting harder and harder to focus on the words that still made no sense, and Roman wanted to ask who on earth Antagonist was. Or for that matter who the demon actually was and he never went home with someone on the first date. Certainly when he didn't even know there name. He wasn't that sort of boy.

The giggle that slipped out at his thoughts was anything but joyful. It bordered on the hysterical, Roman unable to control it. The demon was saying something else but his words were too hard to make out, sound slipping in and out so he could only make out every other word. The world kept flickering in and out of focus, Roman unable to make his eyes narrow in on the demon that had stolen him. 

Roman gave up and let the darkness take him. 

\--

Coming back to awareness was a slow, lazy progress. He felt as if he was swimming up through thick quicksand, each movement sluggish and uncertain. 

For a moment, he simply stared upwards at the ceiling, trying to piece together the very strange dream he had been having. That there was a supernatural world. That his parents had somehow known about it enough to be able to make a deal with a demon and had offered their first born as payment and that the demon had come collecting. That he had been, quite literally, dragged down into hell. It had been such a vivid dream and he had never had one like that before.

Roman blinked a couple of times, mind slowly turning. 

Wait. This wasn’t his bedroom ceiling. And now that he thought that, he realised this wasn’t his bed. It was larger and far more comfortable than any bed he had ever slept in before. With a jolt, he sat upright, regretting it almost immediately. The world spun and shook with the sudden movement, Roman flopping back into the bed and the handful of pillows that just begged for him to sink into them and forget about his troubles for a little longer. Roman stared up at the ceiling and slowly let the truth unfurl in his mind. 

It hadn’t been a dream.

He had been kidnapped. Or sold? Was sold a better word? His parents might have tried to stop it but they had been the ones to do it in the first place. Either way, it didn’t matter what word he used in his mind. All that mattered was the end result, was the fact he had been torn out of his life and thrown into... into... into a _really_ luxurious bed. That was not what Roman had expected. 

Admittedly he hadn’t really spared much time to working out what he had expected but from the various stories he knew of demons and hell, not to mention the hideous glimpses he had seen as they had been pulled down here had led him to believe that something terrible awaited him. Chains and screaming had seemed more likely than a comfortable bed and no restraints in sight. 

Not that he was complaining, but it just dragged out the other torture, that of not knowing what the demon planned to do to him. If not torture then what? And why?

Slowly, he pushed himself upright once more. This time, the world didn’t blur together horribly. After a couple of moments of heavy breathing, he carefully turned and slipped from the bed. His suitcases were placed neatly by the bed, Roman staring at them as he walked by. The demon had gone to the effort of taking him to bed and then had brought his luggage with him. Roman didn’t even remember seeing it come down to hell with them. And all his stuff seemed to still be inside. The demon hadn’t violated his privacy, hadn’t seemed to have gone through them. But why?

That was a problem for later. Right now, Roman needed to get some answers. It was time to confront the demon once and for all. 

He pulled open the door, stepping out into a quiet corridor. Like the room he had woken up in, it looked like a normal corridor. Comfortable, nicely furnished but not ornately. It was the sort of place he would expect to see when he visited a friend, not a hell demon’s home. The door directly opposite him opened up onto a bathroom, Roman looking inside just long enough to make sure it was empty before he moved back and continued his search.

At the end of the hallway was another bedroom door. This one was locked when he cautiously tried it. A ‘V’ was carved above the frame but aside from that there was no way to know what was on the other side. Nobody came storming out to demand what he was doing which meant that it was either empty or someone was trapped and unable to answer. Roman eyed it for a couple of moments before deciding to come back to it later. 

There was nothing else of interest upstairs, Roman slowly making his way to the bottom floor and it seemed as if this was a whole house instead of an apartment. Demons had houses. Who knew? 

The downstairs looked as normal and unremarkable as the top floor. As empty too, Roman feeling his anger and frustration growing with every passing second, every room that he looked in and found it empty of the demon. A living room, a kitchen, a dining room. They were all carefully furnished, although the dining room had that look about it which made him feel like it was a rarely used room. Everywhere else seemed more homey, Roman eyeing the obscenely comfortable looking sofa warily. 

There was even a television in the corner of the living room and that was messing with his mind more than the bed had done because what did that mean exactly? They could get signal down here? The internet? Demons watched television? 

His exploration of the kitchen had only yielded more questions. A coffee maker stood on the counter top, a large glass jar of coffee pods set beside it. No cheap instant coffee for this demon it seemed. 

Fancy. 

The fridge was a little more sparse than he had expected after everything else in the building. Some milk, a couple of leftovers wrapped in foil, even a few vegetables pushed to the back that looked as if they had been left there far longer than they should have been. Nothing in it answered any of his questions and it certainly didn’t tell him where his demon host or kidnapper had vanished too. 

Roman pushed it shut, shuffling out of the kitchen and into the hallway. All in all, this was a perfectly normal house. It was all very... mundane. If he didn’t know better he would have thought this was just a place where a human lived, someone who prioritised coffee over any sort of healthy food true, but still a human. 

A flash of memory shot across his mind, the sensation of limbs breaking only to be instantly healed in order to break again, the sensation making him flinch. Roman had no idea what that soul had done to warrant such an eternal punishment but he was fairly confident that he didn’t want to know. The second of agony he had experienced had been more than enough and Roman wished he could push it out of his thoughts as easily as it had arrived. He wished he could forget.

He really wished he had closed his eyes. 

No, this wasn’t a normal place. And he needed to get out of here while his captor wasn’t about before he returned and put whatever foul plan he had into practise. What could those moments be but a taste of what was to come? Roman swallowed heavily and forced his legs to keep moving. 

The front door loomed up in front of him. It looked as normal as the rest of the house but Roman didn’t dare trust it or allow his hopes to get the better of him. All the better because when he finally reached it and tugged on the handle to get out, nothing happened. 

The door was locked.

Of course the door was locked. Roman felt the wild, hysterical giggle build up in him as he tried the handle again and again as if he could somehow force it open. There had been no keys to be seen in his search of the house, no hint of any way to unlock it which meant he was still trapped here. No doubt his captor had the only set of keys, the panic and terror clawing its way up his throat at the realization that he really was trapped here. There was nobody here to witness his breakdown, nobody he had to be strong in the face of which meant that Roman didn’t have to hold himself back.

Alone, he could let himself feel all the horror and dread his situation inspired in him, the mind shaking fear that make him laugh and scream at the same time, noise slipping out as an unorganized jumble of sound. Legs refused to hold Roman up any longer, the male slowly sliding down the wall, hands clamped over his mouth as though he could somehow stop the noise by sheer force of will. It was impossible to hold back the flood though, to control himself now that the reality of the moment had struck with its full force. He dissolved into tears, curling up into a ball of misery by the front door, his whole body shaking with the energy of his sobs. 

Alone, with nobody to hear him, nobody to help him, Roman gave in fully to his fear.


	3. A Pair of Wings and an Electric Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Questions breed answers but what happens when the answers don’t match up to what you want to hear?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Chapter three already and we are finally going to meet another character who has a major role to play. Not to mention, will Virgil and Roman finally talk? Gasp? I mean... probably not in the way they both hope but still! They might actually talk.
> 
> Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> The line of poetry Roman (sort of) quotes comes from _Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night_ by **Dylan Thomas**. Chapter title is from _Holy Water_ by **Switchfoot**. 
> 
> Tumblr gonna tumblr, come say hi at @theeternalspace

** **

### A Pair of Wings and an Electric Heart

** **

Virgil loved the human world. He loved the things the humans created, their technology and their inspiration. He loved books, music and films. The internet and its endless array of cat photography. The many delicious treats that they had invented in both food and drink. They were amazing creatures when they put their minds to something and Virgil was constantly in awe of all the new stuff he discovered every day.

He absolutely _loathed_ humans themselves though. 

Messy, close minded little things sometimes. Not to mention he had no desire to... to... to... it wasn’t as though he didn’t want to be a demon. He rather liked, on the whole, being a demon. No bills to pay, his own place, a best friend he would never have met if he had been anything other than what he was. Yeah being a demon was a pretty sweet gig and he knew he was so lucky to be what he was - imagine if he had been born a human? If he had to live like them. No thank you, not at all. It all more than made up for the less than pleasant side of what he was and Virgil mostly ignored that aspect of himself. 

At least it had until his father had thrust a scroll into his hands and explained his latest, _brilliant_ idea on how to ‘fix’ Virgil. 

A human soul, all for himself, one that he didn’t have to worry about luring in. As if that was the problem with Virgil, as if all he needed was someone to catch his prey for him. What was next, break them from him too as if he was some kind of pup that didn’t know the first thing about how to be a demon? 

Okay, so Virgil had no idea how to actually talk to anyone, let alone a human he was trying to scam out of their soul, but that wasn’t the _point_. That wasn’t why he was so against the whole idea, why he didn’t want to go hunting with his dad, why he showed no interest in going up to the mortal realm and getting himself a human to toy with. He didn’t want to hurt them or feed from them or do... anything to them. Virgil had no desire for that kind of power, no matter how strong it would make him. 

What had his dad been thinking?

Well, Virgil knew what he had been thinking. What he wanted and why he had given him this human and it wasn’t because it was Virgil’s birthday and he was just being kind. It was like he didn’t know his son at all. Or that he didn’t care what he was liked, what he wanted from life. All he cared about was what the rest of the demon world was thinking and how his son wasn’t normal, wasn’t like the others. 

All he wanted was for him to be able to fit in, to have more friends - Virgil knew he didn’t approve of his only friend either, thought him even odder and probably to blame for leading his son astray. 

Tough love, dad called it. Virgil had his own names for it and none of them included the word ‘love’. 

There was another reason too, the other suggestion and Virgil felt his cheeks flush a bright red just remembering what his father had suggested when they had argued over the human soul. His father, it almost went without saying, had thought long and hard before he selected this particular soul to give to his son. There were many to choose from after all, he was highly skilled in tricking stupid humans to signing over their souls to him in return for temporary gains. Or worse, the souls of their children. His father had apparently spent several nights going through his contracts, even spying on potential targets. More time than he had spent with Virgil in the past few years and he wasn’t jealous of some doomed souls having his father’s attention over himself, he wasn’t.

Maybe he was a little. 

All he really wanted was to have his father notice him, to spend some time with him, but the older demon’s idea of father-son bonding always involved torturing human souls and that... just wasn’t what Virgil was into, much to the other demon’s dismay.

His father had one of the highest soul rates in the area, a fact he was more than a little proud of. It was never enough of course, there was always some reason why he couldn’t just be happy with what he had gained, some new mountain he had to climb. He always looked around him at other people at what they had always looked at himself and just saw what he was lacking, what was different about himself. Some part of Virgil knew his dad couldn’t really help it, that it was who he was, but it didn’t change the feelings of hurt and shame he felt at knowing he was forever failing to live up to his father's ideals. 

Nobody had a son like Virgil. That wasn’t a good thing, Virgil knew that. He was something of a joke amongst the other demons, he and his only friend. They were something to sneer at, to point to as examples of how not to behave and Virgil couldn’t pretend that the comments didn’t get to him sometimes because they did. Just not enough to change what he was. 

Dad knew all of this, and it had to have been running through his mind when he looked through his souls, when he tried to pick his gift - Virgil had wanted an Xbox One, the newest model but no, Dad had decided what he really needed, really wanted, was actually a human soul. 

And out of all of the ones on offer, he had selected this Roman Sanders. 

Virgil wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to make of that. Would this soul be like his father? Or would he be someone he truly hated, all the better to encourage him to play the role as he was supposed to? Someone that maybe Virgil wouldn’t feel bad about hurting, about feeding from, about destro- 

He couldn’t think like that. Virgil wouldn’t let himself think like that. It was too much to hope that the demon who had never seemed to spend much time getting to know his son would possibly be able to pick someone Virgil would be able to tolerate and he refused to allow himself to get his hopes up. If expectations were already low, then he couldn’t be disappointed by whoever the soul turned out to be. Perfect logic. 

Virgil had been more than a little afraid of what he might find when he popped up in that house to collect his gift and really, what was the point of a present you had to leave to go and get yourself? 

Frankly, he didn’t see what all the fuss was about. Or why he had to go through so much effort in the first place. Roman seemed cute enough but he was still a human and more than that, an idiotic human that kept their eyes open through a descent into hell and saw far more than they ever deserved to. Which Virgil felt a little guilty about but he had told Roman to close his eyes, he had tried to protect him as much as he could against some of the horrors of his new life. Virgil couldn't save him from a lot of things but he had hoped that he could have spared him that. Perhaps he would do better next time. 

It pained him to think that there would be a next time - and worse than that, that it would certainly be far more dangerous to Roman than a few bad forced memories that made him pass out. That was a problem for later, and Virgil was doing his best to not think about later.

At least it was done now, and he was home. All Virgil just wanted to crawl onto the couch with his best friend but he couldn’t have him round his, not until he had gotten his new... house guest settled and up to speed. Which meant that once he had placed the unconscious Roman in bed and convinced himself that he was merely sleeping now and nothing worse, Virgil had left his home in favour of going to visit his friends. He didn't bother with knocking, simply sweeping inside and flopping gracefully down on the couch.

“Hey babes, how was it? You bring me something?” 

The sound of his best friend’s voice had Virgil instantly brightening up, gloomy thoughts banished as Remy walked into the room, the taller demon instantly dropping down on the couch, half beside and half on top of Virgil, ignoring the disgruntled noise and wiggle Virgil made. There was no getting Remy off when he was in this mood, his friend wrapping an arm around him and really, Virgil didn’t want him to get off. It was a comfort, to be held by the one demon he trusted, to know things were going to work out. 

With a flick of his wrist, Virgil summoned the complicated drink he had kept in a small suspended pocket dimension, letting it float down into Remy’s eager outstretched hand. 

“Got it before I went to pick up the human,” Virgil explained and at least something had gone right tonight. As strange was it was, he almost enjoyed going to collect take out. He always made sure to know exactly what he wanted before he entered the shop, each word already planned out in his mind. The words often got jumbled of course, but never more than one every couple of trips. That was better than those times he was placed on the spot. They never ended well. 

Nobody tried to make small talk with him in those places, the people behind the counter were just as eager to get to the next person as he was and there was only a small window of fake customer service smiling and pretending they actually cared. It was as close to bliss as he could find in the retail sector. Still a terrible situation of course and even Virgil felt sorry for the poor souls that were trapped working there.

If there was any soul he wanted to punish it would be the ones who designed such a miserable system. Sure Virgil profited off it, but he could still see that it was a horrible thing that not even a demon would have devised. The only comfort he took from it was the knowledge that somewhere, the people who invited and promoted such things were in hell. Or if not, it was only because they weren’t dead yet. Give it time.

That had been the easy part. Then came the hard part. Having to go collect his new human, Virgil popping into the kitchen at what felt like the worst possible time. He had made an ok entrance if nothing else, slipping almost seamlessly into the conversation and trying to act as though he was calm and collected. Really, Virgil had been completely terrified during the whole encounter. Putting on a scary persona had helped a little but not enough. If it hadn’t been for his phone and the constant stream of reassuring messages from Remy, Virgil doubted he would have been able to keep up the act he needed to. As it was, he had spent most of it sitting down purely because he had doubted his legs would have been able to support him. 

“What am I supposed to do with a human soul Rem?” Virgil whispered, pressing his head against Remy’s collarbone, nuzzling close to him. He felt rather than saw, the wings wrap themselves around him, Remy shielding him from the world. Not for the first time, Virgil found himself wishing that he could just stay in moments like this, that there didn’t have to be anything more. No complicated father-son relationship, no complete stranger having to live in his home, nothing but his best friend. 

Here, in the dark and safety of Remy’s wings, Virgil didn’t have to worry about what the other demons thought, what his dad thought or even what the human thought. It was a good moment, and like all his good moments, it was far too brief. 

He wasn’t really sure how long they remained cuddled together before Remy finally sighed and nudged them both into an upright position, Virgil still curled against his side. No words were needed to get them comfortable, the pair moving with the grace that only years of comfortable experience around each other could create before they were settled once more, Remy with his arm around Virgil’s shoulder, fingers brushing against his arm. It was a comfortable silence, one that Virgil didn’t feel any rush to fill. 

“Talk to me kit,” Remy commanded at last, his fingers tapping a gentle, repeating beat that soothed Virgil’s soul. “What is going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I...” Virgil trailed off, swallowing heavily before he forced himself to keep talking, a long pause hovering in the space between them. “I’m not going to do what dad wants, but where does that leave me? Where does that leave _him_?” 

“You don’t have to decide anything right now Virge,” Remy replied, voice as soothing as ever and Virgil didn’t think he would ever grow tired of listening to that voice. His head rocked to the side, resting against Remy’s shoulder as they sat there, Virgil making a soft little noise of agreement. Putting something off sounded like a brilliant plan. Why make a choice now, when he could not make one till tomorrow? 

“He isn’t going anywhere and it isn’t like there is a deadline on this kind of stuff. Let’s just get settled before we start worrying about anything else okay.” 

“Okay,” Virgil mumbled and Remy was differently the brains of the pair of them. The grounding element too and he didn’t know what he would do without the other demon. He closed his eyes, sighing in contentment and if Virgil could not make any choices about Roman for a long time then it would be wonderful. If he could stay here in this moment and enjoy this, then it would be even better. 

“What is he like anyway?” Remy asked and there was a note of something in his friend’s voice, an emotion that he couldn’t quite place. It sounded strange coming from Remy, something he didn’t understand and it was enough to make Virgil shift his head back a little, brown eyes sliding back open to stare up at the outline of his friend. 

Remy’s jaw was working back a forth, a little tic jumping there as if the question had somehow pained him. Virgil wasn’t really surprised, thinking of the human brought the beginnings of a headache to his own mind and who knew one little mortal could be so awkward and disobedient? Remy hadn’t actually met Roman yet though, so he shouldn’t be that worked up about a human he didn’t have any experience with at all. It was all very strange. Still, at least this was something that Virgil _did_ know.

“Annoying. The idiot didn't close his eyes on the trip down, I mean who does that? I warned him kinda and he still saw all the horrors. It knocked him out, I’m surprised that was all he did to him. Even I don’t like to look and I’ve seen the horrors countless times.” Virgil shook his head as he spoke, hair falling over his eyes. He lifted a hand, fingers dancing around in the air with increasing agitation as he thought about the situation.

“And his parents. I couldn’t believe it, they hadn’t told him anything. I show up and the poor soul doesn’t even know demons exist, let alone that he has belonged to one all his life! You think they would have done the decent thing and given him a little heads up but no he got the whole thing dropped on him at the last second.” Part of Virgil wanted to march right back up to the human world and make Roman’s parents pay for being so cowardly, for selling their son in the first place. It was one thing to be an idiot and sell yourself, you had nobody to blame but yourself for that. But to sell someone else? To sell your _child_? 

It was monstrous. Perhaps the demons were terrible for offering the deals in the first place but the humans were even worse for accepting them. Remy sighed, Virgil able to feel his whole chest rise and fall with the motion, his friends fingers still tapping that steady, repetitive pattern, over and over again.

“Come on kit, you are expecting a lot of humans to not be cowardly? Really? One on their own being brave, that I could buy but not more. They couldn’t tell their son what they had done to him, it would have meant admitting the truth. They would much rather blame us for their own flaws and mistakes."

“Yeah...” Virgil deflated, remembering the angry words and looks, the way Roman’s mother had blamed him for everything and told her son not to trust him or a single world he said. As if it had all been Virgil’s fault, Virgil was the evil one for just fulfilling the contract. And not the parents for making the deal in the first place. As if it wasn't their choice to offer up their first born.

Virgil didn’t know what they traded, but it had to be something truly important for his father to accept a child’s soul over the parent. Demons had all the time in the world true, but few were willing to wait an extra generation for the soul.

On the flip side, because the soul could be collected while the human was still alive, there was more power to be gained from it. If the human lasted that long of course. If they died early then they were next to useless and the contract didn't protect them from human accidents or illness.

That was an investment and not one to be taken lightly. 

“They did just that. The mother especially, she wanted to blame me for everything.”

“See? You can’t let them get to you Virgil, it isn’t your fault that they made the deal. You just remember that, no matter what your little human thinks. You aren't in the wrong."

When Remy put it like that, it was easy for Virgil to let himself believe it. It wouldn't last of course, sooner or later, his thoughts would twist back in on themselves and he would feel guilty when he shouldn't. He would feel bad about what had to happen, what he had no choice but to do. Right now however, Virgil simply held onto that feeling of confidence that only Remy could inspire in him.

The coffee reappeared in Remy’s hands and Virgil hadn’t even noticed his friend shifting it somewhere else, out of harm.

"Come on, let's watch some television before you have to go home."

Now that sounded like a perfect plan, Virgil's expression brightening at the thought. Firmly, he pushed the thoughts of Roman out of his mind and focused instead on enjoying an afternoon with Remy.

\--

The sound of a door opening had Roman lifting his head. 

He had cried long and hard, longer than he really wanted to admit as he let all the pent up emotions finally burst free. 

Eventually though, the tears had run dry and Roman had forced himself to stand up. The only thing worse than breaking down and sobbing in such a way would be if the demon returned and saw it, if he realised he was on his way to breaking Roman without having to actually lay a single finger on him. Roman wouldn’t give that smirking demon the satisfaction of seeing him at his weakest. 

Luckily, he had already found the bathroom, Roman retracing his steps and going up the stairs to the room he had briefly suck his head into. It was better stocked than he would have dared hope, cabinets almost bursting with makeup, beauty products, painkillers and cleaning wipes. It was in the second place he looked that he really hit the jackpot though. Roman didn’t want to think about why a demon might have a first aid kit under his sink or if any of the items within it had seen any use. 

It had been enough to clean himself up, to wash away the blood from where he had bitten down on his tongue - Roman hadn’t even noticed that until he had gone to wipe his face and the taste of iron had finally sunk in. He wasn’t sure how long he sat on the floor of the bathroom, his head buried in his arms, just trying to keep breathing and not slip back into panic. All he knew for sure was that it didn’t feel like nearly long enough before the sound of the front door alerted him the demon was back.

Roman stared at his reflection in the mirror once he had climbed back to his feet for a couple of moments longer, examining himself critically. The tear track marks had gone at least, scrubbed clean. He didn’t look his best however. His face was a little redder than he would have liked, eyes slightly puffy but maybe, just maybe, he would get lucky and the demon wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t jump on that as something else to mock him for. Roman hadn’t had any good luck recently, but rather the opposite. That had to mean he was due some now surely? After everything that had happened to him, he felt as though he deserved something to go his way at long last.

It would have to do. He wished he had time to put on some makeup of his own, to create a mask to hide behind, but for all he knew, the demon might come looking for him and Roman didn’t want to get caught with half a face done. 

Exhaling softly, Roman gave himself one last glance in the mirror and then turned to return to the lower floor. The demon was standing in the living room, staring out at the window, his back to Roman. He seemed oblivious to his presence and for a moment Roman considered trying to sneak past to see if the front door was unlocked now. Maybe he could still make a break for it. Roman had no idea what he would do once he got out of the house but step one of the escape plan was doing that. He could worry about step two once he was there. 

Then the window caught his eye. They were another weird thing about this place. Each one showed a different outside view. Some showed daytime landscapes, others night. The one in the hallway showed what felt like an endless storm, rain pattering against the windowpane only for the bathroom to look out on a still, sunlit forest. The living room was his favourite out of the ones he had looked at so far. A night sky without any light pollution, showing the milky way clear and crisp above them. 

Roman had no idea what he would see if he looked out his own bedroom window - no, not his own, never his own, that would imply that he lived here, that he accepted this and Roman wasn’t chattel, he wasn’t something that could be bought or sold. This wasn’t his life and while he might have given in for a while when defeated by a locked door, he wasn’t going to just roll over and play dead long term. But could it really be as simple as simply slipping past the back of the demon and running? 

He must have made some kind of noise as he stood there because the demon suddenly flinched, spinning around to face Roman, eyes wide, expression unguarded. There was shock in his eyes, a surprise that was too open to be faked and almost... almost a little fear. It wasn’t the sort of expression he would ever have expected form the arrogant smirking demon he had met in his kitchen in what felt like a lifetime ago. There was also eye shadow smudged all around his purple eyes now, a black that just served to make the bright violet irises stand out all the more and Roman didn’t need more reason to think him attractive.

It was really quite unfair. 

A small part of Roman couldn’t help but feel almost smug that he had made the big bad demon jump despite everything. It was a tiny revenge but it was still payback of a sort and right now Roman would take any little victory that he could get. Especially now that he couldn’t just run for it. 

“Oh... you’re awake.” The demon recovered annoyingly quickly, expression slipping back into one of studied boredom, his voice as blank as his face. Was it just Roman’s imagination or did he seem almost upset... disappointed by that? Roman swallowed his nerves to take a step inside the room, fingers curled into fists. 

“No thanks to you!” Roman snapped back, trying to forget the sort of power this demon had over him.

“No thanks to...” he trailed off, mouth dropping open for a moment as he struggled to find the words to respond. “I _told_ you to close your eyes! If you had, you wouldn’t have seen any of that and you wouldn’t have passed out!”

“At least I didn’t kidnap someone and lock them up in a house with no warning or explanation!” 

“And I would have told you why the door needs to be locked if you hadn’t _passed out_! I couldn’t let you go wandering around without knowing how dangerous it was! You would have died... no, you would have wished that you had died but anyone who caught you wandering around would not have been that merciful. You’re an utter moron if you think it would be safe to just wander off into the landscape of Hell without any understanding of what lurks there.”

There was a dismissive tone to his words that Roman _really_ hated, an implication that Roman was too dumb or slow to understand even if the demon went to all the effort of explaining himself and nothing made Roman madder right now than to be dismissed like that. Sure, he was in way over his head and didn’t even know demons exist till this very day but that didn’t mean he was ignorant. Or didn’t deserve a real answer. 

Also his plan had mostly revolved around running off into the landscape without any understanding of what was lurking out there, but that was besides the point. 

The point was... wait, why was the demon even saying any of this? Why did he seem to care if Roman got hurt or not? How could that be the point?

“Why do you even care? Scared someone might take what you’ve already stolen?” Roman sneered and he had no idea why he was trying to pick a fight with a demon, one that had already shown he could do whatever he liked with Roman. There was a small little kernel of fire in the pit of his stomach, a rage that he couldn't put out even if he wanted to. 

It seemed as if any type of logic had gone right out the window and he was just pressing on any weak spot he could find regardless of personal safety. What was the point of any of this when he was just some toy to be used?

Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Or so the poem went. If this was it then he wanted to go out with a bang, not a whimper.

The demon stared at him, eyes narrowed. For a moment, Roman could have sworn he saw something behind him, a flick of a long, thin object swishing from side to side before it vanished once more, leaving him chance to focus once more on the furious demon in front of him. 

“Who says I care?” The demon was moving closer as he spoke, hips swaying a little as he stalked forward all fire and brimstone. Despite himself, Roman couldn’t help but move backwards in turn, the pair taking part in some bizarre form of dance, a delicate press of body and feet as they weaved through the room. His back collided with the wall, the demon effortlessly trapping him so there was nowhere to go, nowhere to look but those angry purple eyes that had galaxies swirling in them. 

The demon might be shorter than him but right now Roman couldn't help but be intimidated slightly by the way he was pressing against him, lips twisted into an angry snarl. Not that Roman was going to let himself feel intimidated, he wasn't going to give in. Now or ever.

"Obviously you care, otherwise you would have left the door open. Problem solved," Roman snapped back, too worked up to wonder any longer about plans or reasons, too caught in his own emotions to care about anything but his own pain. The demon reared back as though struck, wide eyes narrowing into a cold and calculating gaze. His arm flew out, pointing towards the door.

"You wanna go get captured by one of those bloodthirsty lunatics out there? Be my guest, door is unlocked, don’t let it hit you on the way out. You’ll manage ten steps, tops, before someone catches your scent. Maybe another twenty before one catches up to you, probably a demon of Pride and then bye bye Roman. You want to experience every joy this place has to offer or do you want to actually survive with your feeble little human mind intact?” 

Neither of those futures sounded particularly appealing. Surviving intact was the one he wanted, of course but what exactly did it mean? What did the demon _want_?

“So what, I should just stay here and let you do whatever it is you want with me? Oh please and thank you Mr Demon Sir, for only torturing me a little of the time, I'm so grateful." Roman titled his chin up in the air as he spoke, silently daring the demon to do his worse. At least then he would drop this silly pretence that he was a good option. As though there could be anything good to be found in literal hell.

“Which is nothing."

“What?” Roman blinked rapidly as he stared at the demon. Out of all the horrors that his brain had thrown at him, all the possibilities, the idea that it might be... nothing, has never occurred to him. 

“I don’t... look dude, sorry to burst your bubble or whatever, but your mother was right. I’m not the demon they originally made the deal with. I didn’t want your soul but I have it. And I have no plans to drain you dry or make you suffer like probably everyone else here. If it was up to me, you wouldn't be here. I’m the best of a very bad bunch." The demon shrugged, looking down for a moment to fiddle with the cuffs of his checkered black hoodie, shifting from foot to foot as they stood there.

“I am Anxiety, demon of Fear... but... you may call me Virgil, if you want.” The demon - no Virgil - sounded oddly hesitant as he spoke, as if he was almost unsure of his own name. Roman was still reeling from the claim that Virgil didn't have any other motives, that he _didn't_ want to hurt him. What kind of demon didn't want to torture and do evil things? It had to be a trick surely, but if it was, it was a very bad one. It made no sense.

“Pizza?” Virgil offered, taking the silence as consent. He clicked his fingers, a box appearing a second later on the counter between them, Roman’s mouth instantly starting to water at the delicious scent of hot melted cheese and vegetables. Virgil flipped the lid open to retrieve a slice. It was loaded with toppings, a cheese covered slice of mushroom sliding off the pizza as Virgil lifted it, melting cheese slowly giving was to gravity.

There was something so... absurdly normal about this sight, something that made Roman's brain hurt a little as he stared at a demon leaning against a kitchen counter and eating pizza without a care in the world. Virgil glanced back up at him, apparently taking in the fact that Roman had yet to move to collect a piece.

“It’s safe, I swear. Freely given.” 

That finally shook Roman out of his stupor, scowl settling heavily on his features. This was probably exactly what his mother had meant when she has warned him against trusting the wiles of the demon. This was the start of his end, and fancy claims of not wanting to hurt him would vanish like misty breath on a warming morning.

“How do I know this isn’t some trick? Eat demon food, be stuck here for all time?”

“Okay,” Virgil sighed and pinched his nose, eyes closing for a moment in an expression of pure irritation and frustration. Really, Roman didn’t think he had any right looking as annoyed as he did, when Roman was the one being held captive against his will. The pizza was carefully placed back in the box, Roman unconsciously tensing against the expected attack.

Instead of lashing out however, the demon merely held up a hand, uncoiling fingers one after another as he spoke, just to illustrate his point. 

“One, that was Persephone, a Queen. She knew _exactly_ what she was doing when she ate those seeds and anyone who thinks otherwise is a moron. Two, I already own your soul and you’re trapped down here so what would I gain? Three, I told you it was safe. Four, this is human food from the human world. And five, don’t flatter yourself, you’re cute but you’re not _that_ cute.” 

Roman was fairly certain he was being insulted on multiple levels. 

He still eyed the pizza suspiciously, trying to ignore the way his stomach grumbled, begging for the food and wanting him to just take a chance. What could be the harm? Well, eternal damnation could be the price and Roman didn't really want that. Then again, this Virgil had a point when he said that he already owned Roman and as far as the demon was concerned, he was already damned. What would be the point in capturing him a second time when he had already managed to do that? Roman was trapped down here already and unlike the Gods, he doubted anyone was coming to save him. His parents maybe but what could two humans do against this when they hadn't been able to stop him being taken in the first place? It was going to be up to Roman to save himself.

Plus, that pizza did look really good. 

Virgil sighed again, something exaggerated and put upon, as if he couldn't even begin to comprehend why Roman might doubt his words, why he would be less than inclined to trust a single thing in this world. It set Roman's teeth on edge and made him more determined to do everything he could to foil the schemes of his wicked kidnapper.

“The devil is in the details. Look... a demon is almost never going to blatantly lie to you. We want your soul, your energy and we exist on contracts, on getting you to sign yourself over to us. Which we can’t get if we lie. It I said let me lend you some food or something stupid like that, then yeah, I could be after something but not, I give you pizza freely. Which I do.” 

There wasn't really much Roman could say or do against that. Beyond refusing to eat but it seemed like that would only hurt himself. Virgil didn't seem interested in saying anything else, simply picking back up his food and eating it slowly, apparently focused only on that. Roman was really hungry, the pizza sitting there so innocently, so tempting. If it was human food, what would be the harm? Carefully, Roman reached out, watching Virgil out of the corner of his eye as he picked up a slice himself. The demon barely reacted beyond a slow blink, Roman just as slowly taking a mouthful of food. 

It was good. So good. 

For almost a whole slice of pizza, there was near silence. Just the sound of food being chewed and swallowed, the demon clearly enjoying it. Just as clearly, there was something on his mind, Virgil fidgeting a little, shooting Roman odd little glances when he thought the human wasn’t looking. There was clearly something on his mind but for once Roman was content to let someone get to whatever it was they wanted to say at their own pace - he wasn’t sure he trusted his voice at the moment. He wanted the truth out of this moment and pushing Virgil wouldn’t get him that. Eventually, Virgil sighed again, eyeing his mostly eaten slice before looking up to meet Roman’s gaze. 

“But I guess you shouldn’t trust anything anyone says down here so... good job I suppose?” Virgil shrugged a little as he spoke, chomping down on the crust a second later as if he was trying to end any further conversation. As if Roman was going to just leave it at that, not when Virgil had just opened up the perfect line of attack for him to try and learn something new about him. This was his chance to prove Virgil was a liar. 

“So I shouldn’t trust you?” Roman challenged, fingers unconsciously tightening on the pizza he was holding, feeling the hot greasy cheese seep over his fingers slightly. He held his breath as Virgil just stared at him, those purple eyes narrow and thoughtful. To his great surprise, Virgil seemed to shrink down a little into his hoodie, almost scrunching himself up and making himself even smaller than he already was. Hand rubbed at the back of his neck in what couldn’t possibly be an awkward gesture, because why would a demon feel anything other than evilly confident? 

“Well... ugh I can’t believe I’m saying this but no. I mean it would be great if we didn’t have this argument every time I offered you some food or something but yeah, don't take anything at face value. Even from me.” 

Again, he was playing the innocent card. This was a very good long con, if Virgil was just toying with him in order to play with him then he was doing a very convincing job of it. Roman was optimistic at heart, btu could he really believe this? Could he honestly think that his kidnapper didn’t have a nervous motive at heart? That he was telling Roman that he shouldn’t trust him but things would still somehow be okay? That he didn't want this just as much as Roman didn’t? If all of that was true, then why was Roman down here in the first place? 

“If you don’t want to... hurt me or anything, why don’t you just let me go?” Roman couldn’t help the note of desperate hope that slipped into his words as he asked the question. Something so fragile and delicate, something he was sure that the demon would take great joy in using against him.

“Yeah, not the way this works Romano. Believe me, if I had a choice, we wouldn’t be in this mess to start with but we have to make the best of it.” Virgil frowned, staring down at the pizza. Appetite apparently lost, he tossed the half eaten crust back into the box and making no effort to pick up a fresh piece. Perhaps not such great delight after all and perhaps there really was more going on under the surface than Roman had first thought. 

Maybe it won't be so bad?" The suggestion, although almost timidly asked, was like a flag to a red bull in Romans mind, forgetting everything else as he focused on those six words. There it was. The slip up. The betrayal. The proof that Virgil had been trying to play him, wanting to get him to admit that being his prisoner wasn’t so bad. As if it could be anything other than misery. Maybe that was how he got his kicks before the torture, have them grateful for mercy and then rip even that away from them. Roman shouldn’t have been so stupid to think even for a second that Virgil was anything other than the beast that he knew demons were. 

"You think if you’re nice to me I'll break easier, is that it? I won't be your duped plaything demon, I am not some... some toy you can play with and throw aside when you get bored! I won’t relax just for you to spring the jaws of your trap shut so just get it over with and skip to the end.” 

"You know what, forget it," Virgil snapped, throwing his hands up into the air in pure frustration. He took a step away from the counter top, away from Roman as though he needed to put some physical distance between himself and the human.

“I was just trying to be nice to make this better for us both but you want to make this hard, fine. You have a room, you have your stuff, you can do whatever the hell you want. Just show me your face once a day, show me you’re eating and stay out of my way.” 

How dare he. How _dare_ he. Who did this Virgil think he was, kidnapping him and then getting angry because Roman wasn’t willing to play along with his little game? Roman was no the monster here, he was not the one who was going to cause hurt. He was the one who was going to be hurt and there was nothing wrong in just wanted it to be over. He turned and started to stomp out of the room, tossing a final word over his shoulder as he went. 

"Gladly!" 

Roman felt somewhere between screaming and crying, conflicting emotions clashing like a violent storm in his mind. Part of him wanted to apologise to Virgil. Not because he necessarily believed him for all his protestations of innocence, he was still a demon, a monster of the underworld. But it might have been smarter to play along, to pretend that he believed him and then use that to try and escape. 

"And don’t try and escape!" Virgil yelled after him. Roman scowled and continued storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him for extra effect. The nerve of the man. Demon. Thing. Whatever. Annoyance. Yes, that summed up this Virgil perfectly. An annoying loser who wore far too much eye shadow and ate like a pig. Someone who thought he could just ruin peoples lives as he pleased and not have to pay for it, who could act the innocent, the victim when someone dared to call him out on his lies. He was a nightmare made flesh and Roman was going to do whatever it took to unmask him. 

There was no doubt in Roman’s mind that he was going to escape as soon as he had a plan to do so.


	4. Like a Wounded Man out on the Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When the opportunity presents itself, Roman is quick to take his chance and make a break for freedom, trying to find his way home. What’s that old saying?_
> 
> _Out of the frying pan... and into the fire._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four is here you guys! And it is time to meet one of the core!four sides. Who will it be? What do they want? (Spoiler: probably nothing great.) Does Roman have a brilliant plan? Will he manage it? Oh so many questions. Lots of answers in this one! And more questions. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Chapter title is from _Hope is the Anthem_ by **Switchfoot**. 
> 
> Tumblr gonna tumblr, come say hi at @theeternalspace

** **

### Like a Wounded Man out on the Run

** **

Actually coming up with a good escape plan was easier thought of than done of course.

The front door remained taunting locked on the few occasions that Roman had dared to creep up to it and try and turn the handle. Admittedly Virgil was never in the house when he made that attempt but he wasn't brave or foolish enough to try and sneak out right under his nose. The windows were equally useless and none of them actually seemed to open even though Roman could see the curtains drift backwards and forwards slightly as though a faint breeze drifting through them. More magic to go with the fact that each had a different view, little glass portals onto various points on Earth. 

His bedroom window looked onto nothing. 

Literally nothing. Roman had peeked through the curtains and found a void waiting for him, a swirling nothing that seemed to reach right inside of his mind and try and scoop out every thought and feeling. He had felt drawn to it even as his mind had screamed and squirmed, trying to escape the nothing that was everything. Roman had leaned forward, forehead resting against the glass and just stared. It felt cool against his skin, soothing and Roman had let the sensation shift him, let himself drift away into the void.

If it hadn’t been for the sound of a door slamming as Virgil returned then Roman didn’t know what would have happened, the male flinching and flinging himself away from the window. As it was, he had no idea how long he had simply stood there and stared out at the void. A while. Longer than he would have liked because Virgil had left around noon and normally didn’t return for hours. 

Roman hadn't pulled the curtains back since.

Virgil was doing a very convincing job of ignoring him. Of pretending that he had no interest in what Roman might get up to, so long as he wasn’t getting in his way. If this was some act, then it was the best acting he had ever seen because if Roman didn't know better, he would have sworn that the demon was honestly mad at him. He barely spoke to Roman, let alone look at him and although Roman would rather eat carrots than admit it, he was starting to feel a little lonely. Even their fight was better than the ice that had sprung up around them and who expected to feel cold in hell? 

True to his word as well, Virgil only checked to make sure he was eating - the trick apparently was to place your hand on the cupboard or fridge and then to ask in a loud voice for whatever it was you wanted, making sure to say please and thank you. Then you would open it and lo and behold, there would be the food as requested. Roman still felt ridiculous, asking an inanimate object for food and thanking it, but he couldn’t deny that it worked. He had no idea where this food came from, if it was like the pizza or if it was demon food and he was just condemning himself to further pain by eating it but Virgil was never around to ask. Not that he wanted to ask, because that would mean caving first and he wasn’t going to be the one who started talking again.

Roman didn’t know where Virgil would vanish to every day but he had quickly learnt the demons routine. He would sleep late, stumble into the kitchen coming up to noon, make himself a coffee with a very grumpy expression. Then he would leave the house for most of the afternoon. Coming back, he always seemed much lighter, almost smiling before checking on Roman and then retreating to his bedroom for the rest of the night. Quite a few times, Roman had even heard emo music blaring from the demon’s room, although Virgil always turned it down around midnight. He still played it, because Roman had crept close once or twice and pressed an ear against the door to try and work out what was going on in there, only to hear the soft strains of Fall Out Boy or some other depressing band.

If he didn’t know better, he would almost say Virgil was being considerate about his house guest - his prisoner - and keeping it quiet late at night so Roman could sleep. As if he was getting his full eight hours of sleep in this house of horrors. He was vulnerable when he was sleeping, easy prey to whatever dastardly trick Virgil might have up his sleeve. Roman didn't know much sleep he managed to grab, fitful snatches only to be woken by fear. 

Not that Virgil ever came into his room. Or seemed to take any advantage of the sleep that would inevitably claim him. He seemed determined not to be the sort of demon that Roman was expecting and that annoyed him almost as much as the situation itself did. Roman had enough problems without adding the fact that Virgil was not behaving as a kidnapper should into the mix. 

It was hard to judge time when all the windows showed different views and he never left the house but there were a number of clocks dotted around the house. At first glance they only seemed to make the problem worse because they all moved at different speeds. The one in his room seemed the steadiest, seemed to actually move in seconds as he understood them and for a lack of any alternative he used that to track the passing hours and days he was trapped here. 

Almost a whole week had passed in this manner. 

It was all very... normal. Of course, Virgil was probably going out to torture innocent people in the afternoon and that was why he was always in such a good mood when he came back but somehow that explanation didn’t quite fit the situation. Roman knew it was part of Virgil’s trick, his game, but he was having a harder time picturing him doing anything actually evil. 

That just proved that he really needed to get out of here before Stockholm Syndrome kicked in and he forgot why he was supposed to hate Virgil and fight against this whole mess. 

It was time to try the front door while Virgil was still in the house. A terrible plan which would almost certainly not work but Roman at least had the element of surprise on his side. Roman wasn’t known for being patient and if the demon knew anything about him, he would know that. Which meant he wouldn’t normally wait a week before making a break for it, he would simply have the idea and go. So in theory, Virgil would have lowered his guard and wouldn’t expect him to try it. 

That was the theory anyway.

This evening, Roman was going to find out if it was right. He made sure to linger around in the kitchen at the rough time that Virgil normally returned and true to form, the demon appeared in the kitchen with a faint smile on his face, almost humming a tune. Expression tightened a little, becoming more frozen as Virgil noticed Roman stood by the stove, slowly stirring the pasta sauce he was heating through. He had made sure to ask for the raw ingredients, trying to calm his nerves by cooking the whole thing from scratch. It was almost ready now and for the brief period of making it, Roman had been able to come as close to relaxing as it was possible for him to be, simply enjoying the smell of tomatoes and garlic filling the air. 

For a moment, Virgil almost looked conflicted, a hint of something shining in those purple eyes before he turned away without so much of a word of greeting and vanished up the stairs to his room. As rude as ever it seemed. 

So much the better, Roman serving himself a generous portion of food. He was going to need the energy if this worked. And if it didn’t. Roman ate slowly, every nerve on edge, screaming that this was a terrible plan, it was going to go wrong and Virgil was bound to suspect something by the way he had decided to cook for himself, the way he was eating it in the kitchen and then washing up. This was more time than he had ever spent in the common areas of the house and surely that was sending up all kinds of red flags. 

With each passing second, he kept expecting to suddenly see a shadow appear, for Virgil to come storming down and demand to know the truth, possibly using his creepy scroll of power in order to force it out of him. That was another odd thing. Aside from that one moment back in the his own house, Virgil had never used the contract to force Roman to jump through any hoops, even when he had been angry at him. He had never gloated in that power as Roman would have expected. 

Maybe it didn’t work like that down here? 

Roman wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, for whatever reason Virgil wasn’t using it and that meant one less weapon in his opponents arsenal. One ever so slightly larger chance for him in turn, the final piece of washing up carefully returned to its correct place. What was he going to do once he got outside? It wasn’t as though there was likely to be any signs pointing the way back to his world. It would be away from here though and that had to be better. It had to. 

His breath felt shallow, rapid little series of puffs of breath as he quietly crept down the hallway, the front door so close now. His whole arm was shaking as Roman reached out, convinced that it was a trap, that Virgil was watching or just as bad, that it wouldn’t open and his whole day of anxious hope and fear had been for nothing. 

The door was unlocked. 

It swung quietly open under his touch, Roman for a moment just blinking as he stared out down the path. For about fifty meters the illusion of normality continued, a small gravel path with grass and a couple of flowers on either side before it just ended. Barren wasteland bumped up against bright green grass as if someone had taken a giant clever and sliced a world in two before mashing it against a completely different place. Or as though the demon had scooped out a whole house and just dumped it into this landscape, bit of a garden and all. 

No alarms sounded as he stood in the doorway and stared, no footsteps thundering down the stairs, no hint of anything at all. Just Roman looking out at two views at the same time. Thoughts snapped back to the moment at hand. He had the door _open_ , there was nobody else in sight. Why on earth was he just standing there? 

Legs felt like jelly as he half stumbled over the threshold and down the path, his gait rapidly picking up with every step until he was flat out running from the garden and into the desert like surrounding area, the wide, flat black road the only marker he had to go by. He ran until his chest was burning, until his legs threatened to give out under him, until he half stumbled, flecks of black flying up from where his shoes had skidded against the warm, sort of sticky like surface that made up the path he had been moving along.

It reminded Roman of a freshly laid road, still slightly tacky under foot. The smell was similar to, Roman almost bent double as he drew in great lungfuls of air, each one making the burning recede a little more. With his head closer to the road he could smell the familiar sickly odour of hot tar.

It was all very new and potentially confusing but Roman didn’t plan on sticking around long enough to solve the mystery one way or another. Sure, it was probably going to bug him when he was back home, wonder who had laid this road out and why it was so fresh. He would wonder about a lot of things about his time in Hell but Roman was fully prepared to live with the fact that he wouldn’t get the answers so long as it meant that he didn’t have to live here any longer. It was worth a mystery keeping him awake every now and then to be free. 

Slowly, Roman straightened himself up, hand lifting to run through his hair as he considered his options. He couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face as the enormity of what he had actually done hit home. The demon had been defeated and Roman was out of that prisoner. A mere week and the bounds meant to hold him had given way until a mad dash for freedom.

Now all he had to do was find a way out of here. With no other real option, Roman simply started to walk. Away from the house, away from where Virgil was hopefully still oblivious to his escape. Away from a week of confusion and a surprising lack of pain. 

Roman wasn’t sure how long he had been walking. The path seemed to stretch on forever, vanishing in a haze over the horizon without any landmarks to give him a sense of scale or hint that the end of his walk might be at hand. When he turned around to see how far he had come, there was nothing but the path behind him without even a dot on the far horizon to tell him where the house had stood. It felt as though he had been moving for miles, for hours and although he had yet to see any way out, at least he had managed to put some distance between himself and the house of his captor. 

It had to have been a while now and yet the light was unchanging, something bright and harsh. The sun but not the sun, because there was none of that warmth Roman would have expected to feel on a hot summer's day. It reminded him more of the bright and terrible artificial lights that they would have in late night convenience stores, when you were there at two in the morning with your eyes almost burning from the lack of sleep as you stumbled around the shelves looking for your items. 

He had been walking for hours. It felt like hours at least. On and on along the road which still smelled of baking tar, with a light that still shone harsher than the sun had any right to. For all of that however, he didn't feel thirsty. That was a little odd, because Roman knew he hadn’t bothered to have a drink before he left, he had been too worked up and focused only on his plan, on getting out of the house without being spotted. 

He couldn’t really remember the last time he had a drink in fact, and that should be a worry surely? Roman couldn’t quite find it within himself to be concerned about that, pushing aside the thought after a moment of considering it. Really, he should be thankful he wasn;t thirsty yet, pleased that he had managed to get as far as he had without being slowed down by the need for food or drink.

At least he wasn’t being chased by an angry Virgil. And the demon had tried to scare him with claims that he wouldn’t get anywhere before he was jumped by some other monster. He had come so far without seeing a single other soul, without so much as a hint that there was anything else alive here. Or anything else not alive but very much evil and intent on hurting him. 

He smiled a little at the thought. Virgil had underestimated him. Had thought that Roman Sanders was the sort to be put off by vague threats and possibilities that might not mean anything. Just as he had hoped, it had turned out to be nothing more than hot air, and there was no danger in front of him, just the possibility of being caught from behind. 

A tiny part of him almost wanted Virgil to show up just so he could realise how wrong he had been about everything. Roman longed to see that smug crooked smirk wiped off his pale face. He desired Virgil to know that he had been beaten, defeated by a human that he had thought so little of, that he couldn’t even be bothered to guard him properly. He hungered for a revenge that he could actually witness, one that would remain fresh in the mind for a long time, something he could use to tell his parents about.

"Well, what do we have here? A lost soul? What are you doing wandering alone on the highway of the damned?” Words echoed around his skull - no around the area. It still made him wince, side stepping a little as he tried to stop the ringing in his ears. 

A tall man stepped out from behind a boulder, one that Roman could have sworn hadn’t existed a second ago. His hair was scraped back, slicked with gel to lie flat against his skull. Thick glasses with frames as black as his hair did nothing to disguise the sharp blue eyes which seemed to pierce Roman as surely as if they were blades. It was almost not a surprise to look down past his face and the stern expression there, to see that he was wearing a shirt and necktie. 

He looked like a college professor. Albeit a scary colleague professor but still, someone who should be at a desk or in front of a board. Giving a lecture about history or maths, breaking students brains with complicated dates or equations. 

“Who... who are you?” Roman was proud of the way his voice only slightly fractured. Sure, he didn’t look like a monster btu then honestly, neither had Virgil and that had still turned out terribly for him. The other man’s lips quirked upwards for a fraction of a second in what could have been a smile before the expression smothered away into a blank one. It was something empty and far more frightening than any scowl could be. 

“You may call me Logic. May I have your name lost soul?” 

Roman opened his mouth to answer before shutting it again with a snap, a faint, slightly confused expression on his face. That... was a strange way to talk. A strange way to ask for a name, and people didn’t talk like that. 

What was it Virgil had said? Not to trust or give anything without thinking about it properly first.

Roman didn’t know if he could trust Virgil. Then again, he doubted he could trust this person who had to be a demon because of the weird not name and the simple fact that he was here at all. It all boiled down to the lesser of two evils - did he trust the words Virgil had said and try and protect his name, possibly annoying this Logic in the process or did he throw aside the warning and say a simple name, and instead potentially earn an ally. Maybe Logic would help him get home and he could use the help right about now. 

“Are you perhaps hindered in the hearing department? I asked you for something. May I have your name, lost soul?” 

Exactly the same wording as before, colder this time, a chill to the words that made Roman want to shiver, something cold running down his spine. It wasn’t right. Whatever was going on here wasn’t normal and he had to go with the theory that Logic was a threat. The choice was made in a snap and sure Virgil was evil but then Roman had to go with the assumption that everyone down here was evil. It was what demons were typically known for after all. What had he been thinking, debating, even for a second inside of his head that there could be a good demon down here or at least one that wasn’t interested in tearing him to pieces? Why had he allowed that little whisper of hope and the thoughts of how he could get his own back on Virgil overwhelm what Roman knew had to be the truth? He shrugged, trying to put on a casual air as he finally replied.

“I don’t think you need to know it, I’m only passing through.”

Logic made a tutting sound, something old and spine chilling. A shiver passed down Roman’s spine despite his best efforts not to react. 

“Souls do not ‘pass through’ here. You’re someone's and they were foolish enough to let you go wandering all alone like a tasty little treat. Who knows who could have stumbled upon you. I passed by Printer on my way here, and he would have enjoyed finding you. I do not believe you would have found the experience quite so pleasing. You are lucky it was only I who found you, little morsel.” 

For a brief moment, Roman remembered his thoughts about Virgil and how he had wanted to know the demons reaction to realising his trophy had done a runner, how he had imagined the shock and surprise on his stupid face. 

That desire seemed stronger now, something positively spiteful. It churned away inside of his chest, almost a living, breathing thing, pressing against his rib cage. It squirmed and shuddered there, impossible to ignore, demanding that he get his revenge. That he somehow use this demon to get his revenge perhaps and they were the sort to turn on each other, maybe this one would want to help him hurt Virgil. He did... want to hurt Virgil didn’t he? Virgil had kidnapped him, had kept him locked up, had threatened and scared him. He might not have carried out any threat but that was only because Roman had managed to get away first. He still wanted his revenge... or so he thought. 

This fury beating in time to his heart didn’t feel... right. Roman wasn’t sure he wanted that anymore but at the same time he couldn’t help but feel it. Something filling up inside and he simply couldn’t stop himself, he couldn’t get enough, each thought swirling into the next one, over and over until all he could focus on was that desire to get his revenge. It far outweighed the little voice that whispered he might not want that anymore. 

Even his thoughts of getting home, of getting freedom seemed to fade in comparison to that urge. 

“Come home with me little soul, I am... curious about you. I would like to know... _everything_ that makes you, you,” Logan offered, still speaking in that even, reassuring tone. It was the sort of voice that almost begged you to trust it, that oozed safety, security. It was a voice that belonged to someone in a position of power, someone who was going to look after you. 

Roman swallowed heavily, mouth dry, his tongue almost sticking to the roof of it as he tried to focus. He wanted to say no but his thoughts felt muddled, thick and confused. Revenge and the desire to do what the man wanted were in his mind, pressing against the doubts, the worry that he shouldn’t listen. The man held out a hand, offering him a smile that was completely devoid of any warmth, anything comforting. 

No. No, he didn’t want to accept the hand. He didn’t want to do this. 

His legs took a step forward anyway, drawing him away from the centre of the road and towards the demon that was waiting for him. Was that the sound of wings? It was hard to hear anything over the frantic beat of his heart in his ears, a heavy thump, thump, thump which only added to the growing confusion in his thoughts, the urge to just stop thinking at all and simply do what the demon wanted without any further fuss sounding an odd note. It was a compelling idea however and once he had thought it, Roman found he couldn’t quite shake it.

He felt an itch in his mind, a pressing urge to rub at it, to find out what it was that Logic wanted to learn from him. Perhaps he could learn something from the demon in turn. Roman licked his lips, trying desperately to get some moisture back. 

Finally, his mind focused, enough for him to fumble towards an answer of sorts. He couldn’t just accept this. But maybe, like he had thought originally, he could get something out of this. Something to make it worth his while. 

“You’ll help me leave here if I do?”

“Of course,” Logic smoothly replied, the smile growing wider without any corresponding warmth or humour. It didn’t look like a smile in the way that Roman would have considered a smile, but maybe that was just how demon’s looked. 

“I give you my word you shall never have to see this place again if you come with me.”

Alarm bells were ringing in his ears, battling with his heartbeat. He shouldn’t trust Logic. He should. Logic had given his word and Virgil said that demon’s were normally truthful. Virgil had also said something about them trying to twist the truth but that didn’t seem as important right now. Roman wanted to cry a little, his mind pulling him this way and that, shouting that he should trust Logic, that he should just keep running, turn away and keep heading in the direction away from the house. Demon’s were nothing but trouble. 

His legs took another step independently of his mind, away from the centre of the road. 

Roman just wanted to go home. 

" _ **Logic**_." 

Roman would never have thought he would be grateful to see that black hoodie, the shorter demon suddenly appearing in front of him, bodily placing himself between Roman and Logic, the sound of strong beating wings from before filling his mind once more. For a brief fraction of a second there was even the overwhelming feeling of large wings spread from Virgil’s back, an iridescent flash of metallic colour which took his breath away before the image was gone and it was just Virgil standing there between the two of them.

Virgil didn’t have wings. He looked just as he had always done. All Roman could see was his back and yet it was still enough to know that Virgil was hunched over, that he was clearly in the grip of some powerful emotion. Powerful enough to all but spit the name out in that strange dual tone which vibrated around the road like a living entity of its own. 

“ _ **Stay away from my human!**_ ”

Roman blinked a couple of times, the cobwebs fading from his mind and what was he doing moving towards Logic? He was meant to be moving away from all demons, he had planned to keep going and yet he was almost within touching distance of another demon. He _was_ within touching distance of Virgil. 

So much for his grand escape attempt. 

If it hadn’t been for Virgil suddenly appearing when he did, Roman would have stepped right off the road into the waiting arms of the other demon. He wasn’t sure what would have happened then. Something in his gut told him nothing good. 

Logic lifted a hand to adjust his glasses in an almost absent minded fashion. It seemed more for something to do than actually needing to see better. 

"We were only talking Anxiety. So this is your human is it? An odd choice to be sure,” Logic replied calmly. He was still staring at Roman, blue eyes burning a hole in him and Roman found he couldn’t look away. That itch in his mind grew, a whisper that he should step around Virgil, that he should reject the protection so freely offered and go with Logic after all.

Roman shook his head roughly, jaw clenching. Those weren’t his own thoughts. They couldn’t be his own thoughts because now that Roman could focus, he knew better than to trust any demon. There was no way that this Logic character would be better than Virgil, no way he could trust himself to the tender mercies of the other demon. Not when he had been so intent on taking Roman away from the road, to his own home and probably a new cell. 

The way he was talking to Virgil as if Roman wasn’t even there or capable of understanding his words didn’t help either. 

“Take better care of your thrall Anxiety, the next demon that finds him might not be as kind as I. They might not ask questions first and you were almost too slow. Out of practise of course. Should you desire any help with your human I would be happy to oblige, I do have great experience when it comes to getting what I want from the souls of humans.”

“I don’t need your help,” Virgil snapped, voice shifting back to a more normal human tone although it was still heavy and thick with anger. Logic nodded thoughtfully, still seemingly unphased by the anger that still burned brightly from the other demon and Roman couldn’t understand how he managed to remain so cool and calm. If it had been Roman, he would have been returning fire with fire. There was something about Virgil that just got under his skin, the demon making every nerve end stand up in fury. All he had to do was open his mouth and Roman wanted to fight him. 

How Logic wasn’t affected was beyond him.

“No I suppose you have your own source to turn to when you have any desires. Still, I confess I am curious about this human. He... is a fascinating creature.” 

“Get used to disappointment,” Virgil replied with a huff. His whole body seemed to be shaking from some kind of barely repressed energy and Roman didn’t understand why he was so angry. Unless it was just a territory thing and even Virgil hadn’t used his name, had just reduced him to the label of human, of ownership. Maybe they were all nothing more than overly large dogs just going around marking their boundaries. 

“Oh come now Anxiety, we are all friends here. Why not let me borrow the human for a little while? You are clearly not using it as you are supposed to. A day with me might make it more willing to behave with you...” Logic offered, voice trailing off as if he had just made the most tempting argument around instead of trying to borrow a living, breathing person. 

Roman really should say something. They were still talking over him, still discussing what was going to happen to him without even pretending that Roman had any say it in at all. If nothing else, he should take the opportunity to try and make a run for it. He probably wouldn’t get very far but that wasn’t the point. The point was... the point was... well, there was a point and Roman was meant to be making it, even if he couldn’t quite focus on what _it_ was right now. 

He was still so hungry though and that overwhelmed everything else. Burning in him, devouring him from the inside out and there was nothing that Roman could do to control those desires. He needed an outlet, he needed to give in to those feelings, to let them out because holding them in as he was doing was just making everything feel that much worse. His whole body was humming, an electric spark which ran the length of his skin and there didn’t seem to be any escape from it, any relief that he could find. 

Food, he wanted food, forget revenge or the need to get even. Forget anything as complicated as that, what he needed was to fill that ache inside of him. It was something simpler, something so basic and needed. He wanted to gorge himself on as much food as possible until he couldn’t so much as move from the table. Until he had passed comfortably full and gone right to feeling sick. Roman wanted to eat that much, he wanted to just eat and eat and e-

Suddenly, he could feel something curl around his ankle, a thin band of _something_ pressing against his trouser leg, wrapping itself around his cuff. It was cool to the touch, even through his trousers. The sensation made all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end, breath catching in his throat. He didn’t want to look down. Roman wasn’t exactly sure what was down there, what was touching him, but as with so much down here, his mind told him it was nothing good. That ignorance, in this matter, might actually be bliss. Just this once, he didn’t want to have to be brave, he didn’t want to look down. Just this once, he kept his head high, staring at the two demons in front of him.

“You’re always curious and you’re going to have to deal with that. Not. Today. Logic,” Virgil all but spat the words, his shoulders still hunched up rather like hackles. The other demon shook his head, giving a soft, tutting like sound as he did. It reminded Roman of one of his old school teachers when he had turned in a less than stellar report. Not angry, just disappointed. 

“That is a saying to live by... fine, I’m going, I have things to do anyway. I shall no doubt see you soon Anxiety. And you... what did you say your name was?” Logic asked again, those eyes snapping back to Roman and pinning him in place. What little thought he had about running died in his mind and Roman couldn’t even move from his position. It was as though he was rooted in place and by something more than whatever was still wrapped firmly around his ankle. 

“He didn’t,” Virgil snapped, not even giving Roman a chance to reply. Roman couldn’t help but feel grateful for that at least. He could feel his name rising up in his throat, those eyes compelling him to answer before Virgil was shutting that down and letting him breath a fraction more freely. “He knows better than to give something that precious away so easily.”

"Your tail is showing," Logic commented mildly, still seeming more amused than anything else by the hostility that was radiating off Virgil in hot waves. 

Instinctively, despite the urge not to, Roman looked down at the same time Virgil did. 

A thin, dark tail was wrapped around his ankle, no doubt the same cool something he had felt moments ago. The same thing that snaked across the ground and upwards, vanishing under Virgil’s hoodie. A tail. There was... a tail. Attached to Virgil. Virgil... had a tail.

Cursing softly, the tail rapidly uncoiled itself from around Roman's ankle, flicking away from him. It vanished mid swing, shimmering away into nothing and if it wasn’t for the panic that was still rushing through him in great waves, Roman might have doubted his own senses. There was no denying what he had seen though, no matter how much his mind scrambled to find some sensible, real world explanation for it. That had been a tail. A demonic... tail. 

Roman lifted his head to stare at Virgil, eyes wide. Of course demons had tails, so of course Virgil would have a tail. It stood to reason he would have wings and horns too and yet to actually see more than just a hint of that demonic presence was so shocking somehow. Virgil had always seemed so normal. Just another grumpy teen despite the reality of the hellscape around them and it was easy for Roman to forget that he wasn’t actually human. Despite everything that had happened and the sheer power over him that Virgil had shown he possessed, he still struggled to realise how much of a threat he actually was, perhaps because Virgil had never actually seemed interested in threatening him or hurting him. He kept him here, but he had seemed curiously detached from it all and perhaps it was too much to hope that Virgil might be an ally - but Roman wanted to see if he could be less of an enemy than Logic.

For a moment, the image of wings outlined by the sun rose in his mind, a stark outline that seemed to burn itself into his brain before it vanished again, leaving him wondering what he had just thought of.

“Until next time Anxiety.” 

Roman blinked a couple of times, Logic finally turning away. With that complete loss of eye contact went the last of the remaining few cobwebs that lingered in his mind. Hunger filled the spaces instead, pressing in all around him. Another moment and then that hunger solidified in his chest, shifting to something that was not food related in the slightest. It was a different sort of craving, a different hunger that nothing like that would satisfy. He could eat and drink for days and it wouldn’t fill the new hole that had appeared inside of him. This was something far darker, far more abstract. Nothing that he could simply will away or ignore. 

Roman barely noticed Logic vanishing with a sharp crack like sound. 

Gaze was fixed on the demon in front of him, eyes narrowing into sharp little slits as he stared, and suddenly, everything made sense. 

Virgil.

Pretty, pretty, _pretty_ Virgil. Who owned his soul but hadn’t hurt him. 

Whose purple eyes were staring into him and into his soul. Pretty Virgil who made his heart quiver now that he allowed himself to actually think about it. The same demon that had looked after him, that had protected him and he was so very attractive. How had Roman never realised quite how attractive Virgil was before now? They had been living together for nearly a week and he was only just now taking note of eyes which left him speechless. His cheekbones were sharp and well defined, a line he ached to trace with his fingers. 

Skin no longer seemed too pale but rather an enchanting shade of white which only made the contrast of his hair and those already mentioned eyes that much more striking and beautiful. Those eyes which were like liquid amethysts, a molten metal sheen to them that would no doubt burn him if he got too close - but oh how Roman wanted to get close. He didn’t care anymore about the risks, about the fact that Virgil had kidnapped him, that he was holding him prisoner. He didn’t care about any of that, not when his mind was spinning beautiful fantasies about the various aspects of the impossibly attractive demon.

Such as his hair which was so soft and positively begged him to run his hands through it, to play with it and kiss at the hairline, to see what sort of sort noises he could coax from him. Virgil seemed like the sort to be soft with those he cared about, a gooey centre masked by the hard facade he tried to present to the world. 

“Hey dude, you okay?” Virgil’s voice sounded a little distorted, a little odd, as if he were hearing it under water. Roman shook his head a little, as if trying to dislodge some water from his ears, but the movement only made him feel a little lightheaded for a moment. “Roman?” 

It was still by far the most beautiful sound he thought he had ever heard. It seemed angelic rather than demonic, a melody that he would never grow tired of listening to. Roman wanted to hear his name being spoken in Virgil’s raspy tones again and again. He wanted to just listen to him talk, the topic didn’t matter so long as he was speaking to him. 

Roman swallowed heavily.

That hunger was still there, a roaring, raging fire now. It demanded attention, demanded he do something other than just stand there, gaping like an idiot. He felt physically hot as well, more than just inside of him, but a sweat on top of that, something which made him feel almost lightheaded. It grew worse the longer he stood there without doing anything, without solving that hunger which clawed at him. His clothes felt too tight, as though he was suddenly wearing an outfit that was a size too small for him.

Movements were jerky, uncertain as he started to close the gap between them. Virgil actually moved as well, meeting him halfway, a concerned look on his face that only made him that much more attractive. He was worried for Roman, the thought causing a flutter of excited butterflies to spring to life inside his stomach. Virgil was worried which had to mean that he saw Roman as something more than... whatever it was that demon’s actually did to the humans they seemed keen on ensnaring. 

He had been so good to him. So kind. Even when Roman had been nothing but rude back, Virgil had still made sure he was safe, had given him food. He had come after him and protected him from Logic and Roman knew now that going with the other demon would have been a terrible mistake. Virgil had saved him from that when it would have surely been easier to just leave him. He had already said that he didn’t want a human soul and what better way to get out of it than let someone steal him - but Virgil hadn’t done that. Virgil hadn’t abandoned him like his parents had done.

“Roman?” Virgil repeated again, his voice as odd and as broken as before. As beautiful as before too, and he didn’t bother answering which words. Instead, Roman reached out, his hands cupping Virgil’s face, staring deep into his eyes looking for... well, Roman wasn’t really sure what he was searching for. Whatever it was, he could feel that hunger shifting inside of him, demanding more and more. Just touching Virgil wasn’t enough, he needed _more_ of whatever it was. He needed to do... something. 

Virgil wasn’t pulling away. His mouth was forming a shape, a question of some sort but all Roman could think about was the fact that he hadn’t pulled away. Which had to mean that he wanted this too, that he was content for this to happen.

Whatever this was. 

No, Roman knew what this was. He knew what this hungry was now, and perhaps he had always known it was going to go this way but just hadn’t been ready to accept it. Roman accepted it now. It was impossible to ignore, from the way he thought of how attractive the demon was, to the way he was staring at his face, eyes on those lips which were positively begging him to press his own against and see if they really were as soft and supple as they seemed. Virgil had to want him to do this. Why else would he be letting Roman touch, if not because he wanted him to take the lead? 

Roman surged forward without another thought, lips pressing harshly against Virgil’s own, catching him in a giddy kiss.


	5. When Your Wings are Tied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demon’s aren’t built to resist temptation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back at long long last! I’m sorry it’s been so long since I last updated this story, real life and other commitments, both writing and not sort of sent everything a little crazy. But I’m back with another chapter! Time to finally find out how Virgil reacted to _that_ cliffhanger. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left comments, they really mean everything. Let me know what you think of this one!
> 
> Chapter title is from _Shake this Feeling_ by **Switchfoot**. 
> 
> Tumblr gonna tumblr, come say hi at @theeternalspace

** **

### When Your Wings are Tied

** **

For a long few moments, all Virgil could do was kiss back.

He wasn’t blind. Roman was incredible attractive - for a human. Virgil had known that from the moment he had first set eyes on him. Kissing Roman was not exactly a hardship. They seemed to fit into each other, Virgil’s hands lifting to catch at Roman’s hips, drawing him in close as the human kissed enthusiastically. It would be only too easy to remain swept up in this moment, to just let Roman keep kissing until he forgot everything else and really, Virgil wasn’t opposed to the idea of kissing the human per say. If it was Roman’s actual choice.

This wasn’t Roman though.

His human was all fire and rage and hate. He was more likely to spit a curse at Virgil than sweep him up in a romantic kiss that would put Remy’s own to shame. He didn’t want this. He couldn’t want this.

So that meant, this had to be Logic’s influence. 

The hunger demon leaving one last nasty little ‘gift’ behind, something for Virgil to have to deal with. Although, knowing Logic, he probably thought he was being kind by doing this. Giving the whole thing a little nudge to get going, twisting Roman just a fraction in order to see what would happen. That was just the sort of thing Logic would do, he always had to push things further, he had to see what would happen, no matter the cost. All because Logic thought his way was the only way to do things.

Everyone thought that they knew best, that there was something wrong with Virgil, that he was broken in some way because he didn’t act like a normal demon, because he didn’t want the things the underworld told him he was supposed to want. Even his own father was convinced that there was something wrong with him, that he had somehow managed to break his only son. 

Everyone except Remy of course, but then everyone thought there was something wrong with him too, something that only some human suffering could cure. As if either of them had any interest in that. It might make them more powerful but what did power bring except for added responsibilities, added weight? More eyes on you and the higher you managed to get, the more chance you had to fall. The more dramatic the fall too and really, why demons wanted to risk falling was beyond him. It was yet another thing Virgil knew he was lucky to have missed, to be one of the later generations of demons and not involved with any Fall or decision on the part of the Gods as to who was good and who was bad. He had missed the wars of all religions, been spared that horror and he was duly grateful. Just not enough to behave as his father wanted him to. 

Virgil was still kissing Roman. 

He was cute, he had thought that from the start. It had been about the only upside to this whole stupid plan of his fathers. At least he had a good view and there were far worse humans he could have ended up with. And clearly, Roman thought he was attractive back, which was odd but also reassuring. It just proved that his human was an odd one. An odd one but his in apparently more ways than Virgil had first imagined, because Roman liked him. 

The thought cheered him up ever so slightly. Logic couldn’t make a hunger appear, he could only fan the flames into a raging inferno. Which meant that some part of Roman had to want to kiss him. Even if it was a tiny, barely there part, there had at least been the passing thought about Virgil and about what it would be like to kiss him. 

So maybe he wasn’t being too horrible. This was still partly Roman and he hadn’t taken all his choices away from him by letting the kiss linger. Anyway, he was a demon. He wasn’t supposed to care about things like that. Roman belonged to him and by every rule and law that demon’s followed, Virgil was allowed to do whatever he liked to the human, be it kiss, kill or anything in between. The human’s rights were none existent. Nobody would bat an eyelid at Virgil kissing, if that was what he decided he wanted to do. After all, the human was pretty and he might as well be put to work doing something he was good at. Roman was very good at kissing. 

Nobody would care, beyond the idea that Virgil was finally behaving as a demon should at last. 

Virgil would care though. 

This was wrong and Virgil knew it. He knew he couldn’t take advantage of Roman like this, no matter how much he was enjoying it right now, because he knew the truth. Even though there was a part of Roman that wanted this, there had to be a much larger part that did not and Virgil couldn’t keep hurting him like this. 

Remy was going to have the time of his life when he heard about this. Not only the kissing itself but the way in which Virgil had been forced to... ugh... show some restraint. Resist temptation. He was pretty sure that was meant to be impossible for demons and yet here he was, about to give it his best shot. 

“Hades give me strength...” Virgil mumbled softly, pulling away from the kiss as best he could. 

Roman gave a distinctly un-Roman like whine of protest, trying to follow him, hands curling tighter around his arms as he searched for more kisses, trying to catch the shorter demon’s face but Virgil remained strong, keeping a distance between them. If Roman started to kiss him again, he doubted he would have the willpower to pull away a second time. 

If Virgil hadn’t been sure before, he would have been now. No way his Roman would have made such a noise if he had been in full control of himself. It was far too needy, far too submissive, willing to offer himself up and just for the sake of kisses from a demon he had claimed to hate. No, Virgil had to focus on his original theory, that this was Logic’s doing and so had to be resisted. 

“Why did you stop?” Roman asked with a pout, apparently realising he wasn’t going to just be able to claim more kisses as he had apparently wanted. Roman’s eyes were so wide, so trusting and hopeful. They were everything Virgil could hope to see in them - and they were everything he knew he didn’t deserve. Virgil had done nothing to warrant such faith in him and it made him feel guilty knowing Roman was acting in a way so contrary to his usual behaviour. 

Despite all of that, Virgil couldn’t help but lift a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Roman’s ear, the human instantly leaning into the touch with a soft little sigh, eyes fluttering closed in apparent contentment.

This... really wasn’t fair. He wasn’t designed to cope with this. He was a _demon_ for goodness sake. 

After a couple of blissful seconds, Roman opened his eyes again, a quizzical expression in them and oh yes, he had asked Virgil a question before he had managed to derail the thought process completely by being so adorable. Again, not fair. Virgil really wished Remy was here. Even if he would just make fun of him, Remy at least was better at this sort of stuff. He would be able to distract Roman and keep things moving, he would be able to comfort Virgil too and all the demon wanted was to wrap his arms around Remy and let the other take all the bad stuff away. Instead, he had to actually face things himself. 

“We shouldn’t kiss here,” Virgil explained, trying to ignore the little flutter of desire that whispered he could if he so wanted. Roman was going to hate him enough already, and Virgil wanted a peaceful existence at home. It was hard enough living with a human that always seemed one wrong word away from tossing a plate at him, he wasn’t going to change just because they had shared a couple of kisses. If anything, he was going to hate him even more and things were going to get even more tense at home. Perhaps Virgil could spend more of his time at Remy’s, he had said he could come over whenever he wanted. Then again, if he just abandoned Roman in his house who knew what could happen? Beyond some vague and ill defined ‘bad’. 

“Home then?” Roman suggested, still slotted in perfectly against Virgil, as if he had been born for it. Virgil exhaled, calling upon more restraint, energy he hadn’t realised he possessed and he could do this. He had to do this, he just had to get through this next second and then the one after that. Each second at a time and each issue as it came. 

Home. Roman had always been very clear that Virgil’s house was not that, another reminder - as if he needed one - that his human was being affected by something outside of his control. 

“Sure,” Virgil agreed softly, and at least inside he could make sure the doors were locked. Nothing was getting in or out. Of course, that left him alone with Roman but at least he would be safe. “Close your eyes please?” 

Roman did so without hesitation, the easy motion almost making Virgil feel sick. 

He didn’t like this - he had thought he would like a Roman that didn’t argue and scream at him all the time, that actually did the things that he asked when it was for his own good but now he was finding out it wasn’t nearly as nice as he had imagined. Virgil would give almost anything to have Roman rant and rave at him once more. To pull himself free and insist that he could do it his way and that he didn’t need any help. 

Instead, Roman laid his head on Virgil’s shoulder, dipping a little to account for his height but apparently completely trusting Virgil to protect them both. It was new and like almost everything new, unpleasant, the motion twisting something up inside of his chest. It was all wrong, Roman was all _wrong_ and he wanted his angry but honest human back. This couldn’t last forever right? Virgil didn’t have much experience with using his so called gifts, but he knew that they were finate, there was a limit on them, an end and surely even someone as powerful and as knowledgeable as Logic couldn’t control someone forever. 

It was simply a matter of waiting the whole thing out. He could do that. He _had_ to do that. Grumbling softly under his breath, Virgil closed his own eyes and willed them back home. It was harder to move like this, to slip sideways through the world but he had a fixed location in mind, a tether to tie himself to and use it to pull them both to where he wanted to go. He could have just used his wings of course, Roman was clinging to him tightly enough that it would be safe but they were aching from his previous effort. 

Virgil had already flown to try and catch up with Roman, he was in no hurry to use his wings again. His own fault for not using them enough, but they were yet another painful reminder of everything he didn’t want to be. Which meant he had to use the portal to get them both off the street as quickly as possible. 

The world was sucked away from them, Virgil drawing in a breath as they were both pulled off their feet, vanishing through the ring of flames that had appeared to their left. It didn’t matter how often he used them, Virgil never got used to falling sideways. There was just something distinctly unpleasant about it which always put him a little on edge. Still better than flying. Or, for that matter, walking. 

Basically, no matter how much he might dislike it, it was still better than actually putting in any physical effort on his part. 

They reappeared in the living room, the front door still ajar from where Virgil had raced through it upon realising Roman wasn’t in the house. The human made no effort to move from the embrace and it was getting harder and harder to remember why Virgil was so against this happening. It was harder to remember why he was denying himself something that promised to be a whole lot of fun - oh. Yeah. The consequences. Which again, wasn’t really a word many demons tended to bother themselves with, but he found himself staring them in the face all the same. 

“Can we kiss now?” Roman mumbled hopefully, nuzzling against Virgil’s neck and this was impossible. He was impossible. 

Virgil wasn’t used to affection at all. Not unless it came from Remy but he always knew where he stood with Remy, he always knew what the other demon wanted and what he was like. Roman was someone completely new and thus frightening. He didn’t understand any of this and Virgil had to put an end to it. For his own sanity and peace of mind come the morning. If he was lucky, Roman might even be so embarrassed that he just didn’t mention it and then that was one less awkward conversation to have. Virgil certainly wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up first. 

Frantically, he cast his mind about for some reason to delay kissing Roman despite the human wanting it while he came up with a plan. Wait. Delay. That was all he had to do full stop. He just had to delay Roman or distract him long enough for Logic’s influence to wane and for Roman’s actual personality to come to the forefront once more. 

Give him enough time and the real Roman would be back in charge, the one that would no doubt be horrified at himself. The one that hated Virgil. It was more than just the right thing to do, it was the thing that Virgil knew he had to do - so why did a small part of him almost want to get Logic back here and keep Roman confused? 

Not for the first time, and no doubt not for the last, Virgil found himself wishing that Remy was here. His rock, his north star, his everything. It wasn’t even like he could ask himself; ‘what would Remy do’ and get an answer because Remy operated on a logic all of his own. In this kind of situation, he could decide to push Roman away. Or he could just accept it and start kissing him back. There was really no way to judge which way Remy would behave at any given time. He was unpredictable like that. 

If it had been anyone else, that personality trait would have driven Virgil away long ago. It was Remy though. It always came back to that; it was Remy and so the normal rules didn’t apply to him. He got to do things that nobody else could do. His best friend was awesome like that. 

Virgil shook his head slightly, forcing his mind back to the matter at hand, and to Roman who looked about ten seconds away from trying to kiss him again, head tilted just a fraction down, something warm and soft in his expression. It was the sort of look that Virgil knew shouldn’t be aimed at _him_.

“How about this Roman? Come the morning we can kiss if you still want. All the kissing, whatever you want to do tomorrow, we can do it. But tomorrow, not right now.” 

Roman pulled away at that, finally putting some distance between them. Thank Hades, because Virgil lacked the strength to do that himself and it had been killing him having Roman so close and knowing that the whole thing was doomed. Everything was doomed in the end, but usually he was much more accepting of it. That was just the way things worked. 

“Why can’t we kiss now?” Roman asked, a positively sulky expression on his face. It shouldn’t be as attractive as it was, but then, as Virgil was quickly finding out, he could apply that to a lot of things about Roman. He was only a human, and yet he was almost... intriguing. Appealing. Like a siren, he caught his attention even when Virgil didn’t want him to. 

“Because the day will have taken a lot out of you, and I don’t want to overwhelm you.” Virgil told him carefully. Roman shook his head, still protesting. 

“That's very sweet of you but I feel fine.”

“Yeah now. I don’t want you to fall asleep on me mid-kiss,” Virgil explained, ruthlessly squashing down the guilt he felt at the half lie. It was true - he didn’t think his anxiety could handle the humiliation of someone falling asleep when they were supposed to be kissing him. It would be soul destroying and not in the way that he normally understood. 

It was just, that wasn’t his only reason. Or even the main reason. Roman hummed softly, eyebrows drawing together a little as he considered Virgil’s words before giving a little resigned shrug.

“Fine. A goodnight kiss at least then?” 

Temptation yet again. And Virgil was no saint, not by a long shot. There was only so much he could be expected to cope with. Slowly, he leaned forward, pressing the lightest kiss against Roman’s forehead, unable to resist the smirk that twitched on his features at the unimpressed stare he was now getting. This was almost as good as actually kissing, making Roman squirm and for a brief whole second, Virgil allowed himself to imagine what it would be like if this was real. If Roman really wanted him to kiss. Making him sulk like that would be very entertaining, as would making it up to him later. But it wasn’t real of course. He didn’t need it to be real. 

“Tomorrow,” Virgil promised, skirting around the issue as best he could. A lie that wasn’t a lie, he was practised in those if nothing else. “We can talk and... stuff.” 

“I’ll hold you to that stuff,” Roman replied with a wink, his good mood returning in an instant and this version of Roman was certainly easier to please if nothing else. With a slight yawn, hand drifting up to his face, Roman turned and shuffled off up the stairs, Virgil watching him go. Without Roman’s eyes on him, Virgil let the smirk shift into a sadder, more resigned smile.

“No, you won’t,” he whispered softly, words too low for anyone else to hear. 

Not that he wanted Roman to hold him to that. He didn’t want to kiss Roman. Well, maybe a little, he had imagined what it would be like if Roman liked him like that. He had enjoyed imagining what it would be like if things were different. If they were better but he was a pessimistic realistic, he knew there was no chance of that happening so it was easier to just push the thought from his mind and act as if he had never wanted it in the first place. This whole thing had been a nightmare that seemed never ending. 

Now that he was no longer supporting him, it was clear that Roman was honestly exhausted, the human weaving and wobbled a little on the stairs as he ascended them. He kept moving at least, Virgil not relaxing until he heard the tell tell sound of Roman’s door clicked shut behind him. From the way he had looked while going up the stairs, he would probably be asleep within minutes.

It was over. It was all finally over and Roman was safe for the moment. Virgil felt his whole body sag in relief, air escaping his lungs as he made his way over to the front door and pushed it shut, locking it a few seconds later. Nothing was getting in or out now. Except for Remy if he wanted. Or his dad. But he wasn’t worried about the former and Virgil couldn’t even remember the last time the later had actually come to see him. His father always summoned him, normally to his work. Yet another power play, another example of everything Virgil hated about being a demon and wanted to avoid. 

With a shake of his head, he moved into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of ice cold soda from the fridge. Going outside was thirsty work and maybe he should have insisted Roman have a glass of water before he went to bed? Frowning, Virgil stared upwards towards the ceiling, as though he could magically see through it towards the bedrooms. It was too late anyway, Roman was bound to be asleep or nearly by now, and if Virgil showed up in his room he might take it to mean something completely different. 

Grimacing to himself, Virgil took a large swig of his drink, gulping the soda down. That had been close. Too close. Virgil couldn’t help the spike of fear that rushed through him at the thought of what could have happened if he had been slower. Logic had been so near to stealing his human. Virgil knew what happened to human souls that went into Logic’s domain. He had no hesitation in draining them in order to get what he wanted from them and he was rarely gentle about it either.

Logic wasn’t even the worst out there, not by a long shot. There was Antagonist of course, always playing the role with almost demented relish. There was Procrastination, although as his title suggested, he was not exactly the most inspired of the demons around. 

There was his father.

Not even Virgil dared to imagine what could have happened if it had been his dad who had found Roman. The outcome would have been terrible for both of them. If nothing else, Virgil could be grateful that it hadn’t been him they had met on the road. 

This couldn’t continue. 

When Roman next left his room, he was going to have to try and have another conversation with the human, try and convince him yet again of the dangers down here. No doubt Roman wouldn’t listen, but he had to at least try and Virgil didn’t know how to prove that he really wasn’t after anything. Virgil would give Roman almost anything he wanted, would do almost anything he could to try and make him content with his new life. 

The irony of that wasn’t lost on Virgil. 

Because the one thing Roman wanted - his freedom - was the one thing that Virgil couldn’t give him.

Why did everything have to be so complicated?

\--

Roman woke up with a terrible headache, a tightening around his whole skull as though someone had strapped a metal band around his head and had progressively tightened it during the night. Twisting the screw tighter and tighter until it felt as if his actual head might explode from the pressure. Without really thinking about it, he lifted a hand to his forehead, almost expecting to feel something physically there. 

His skin felt clammy to the touch, a cold sweat across his brow, hair almost slick with it. It was disgusting and if Roman didn’t feel so gross already he would have shuddered as he feebly wiped the palm of his hand against the cover, trying to brush away the sensation of cold sweat. 

If it was just his head that was killing him, Roman might have been able to cope with it. But it wasn’t. His whole body protested when he tried to move more than an inch. It was as though he had been run over by a steamroller. And then his flattened remains had been gathered up, stuffed inside some container and used as a ball for a game of soccer. Quite possibly after that, the ball had then been used as target practice on an air gun range. 

What had _happened_ last night? 

Had he somehow managed to get hold of a lot of alcohol and then tried to drown his sorrows? Or even further, tried to drown himself in drink? He certainly felt as though he had gone a couple of rounds with the gods of booze. It wasn’t outside the realms of possibility that he had just gotten completely drunk but somehow that didn’t sound quite right. He couldn’t say exactly why, the sensation he was currently feeling certainly felt as if he had been drinking and yet - and yet. Something lingered in his mind, bothering him. 

Whatever had happened felt far too painful to be able to deal with it right now. Roman just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. He could try again in a couple of hours, when maybe the room wasn’t as hazy and his head not as tight as if his skull had somehow shrunk in the night and was now a size too small for him. Sleep would make a lot of his pain go away for a while. 

That sounded like a really good idea but at the same time he couldn’t just leave it. His innate curiosity was buzzing away at the problem, trying to work out what had happened. The last thing he clearly remembered was cooking a meal from scratch. He had wanted to do that because... because he had planned to try and escape. 

Memories hit him with the force of a truck, his eyes snapping back open. A second later he was bolt upright, completely ignoring the pain as the events of the previous night slotted into place with a sickening thud. 

The front door unlocked. Escaping. Running. Walking. Meeting that demon, Logic. Feeling not himself. Virgil showing up and chasing Logic away. Kissing Virgil. Coming back here.

Kissing Virgil.

As if in a daze, Roman lifted a hand to his lips, absently tracing them as he remembered kissing Virgil. More than that, he remembered being the one to want to do it, taking the lead and pretty much begging Virgil to keep kissing him. He remembered how desperate he had been, practically throwing himself at the shorter demon and offering himself up to him. In that moment, Virgil could have done anything to him and Roman would have accepted it, wanted it. He could have kept kissing and kissing, drawn him into his bedroom and had his way with him, the bile rising in Roman’s throat at the mere thought of it. 

Except... except Virgil hadn’t done that, had he? 

He had pulled away from the kisses, he had brought Roman back hom- here, and had told him they would kiss later... if Roman still wanted. Surely Virgil had known that he wouldn’t want to kiss him in the morning. Looking back, he had even seemed shocked at Roman’s actions, as though he wasn’t the one who had messed with his mind. 

Roman couldn’t help the flush of embarrassment at that. It was bad enough that he had made an absolute fool of himself by throwing himself at the demon without any regard. It was even worse that he had done that only to then be rejected by Virgil. Spurned. It was just typical that the demon that had claimed his soul didn’t actually seem to want him, Roman for the first time thinking that in more than just whatever the contract implied. 

Then again, that kiss hadn’t been one from someone who wasn’t interested. 

Roman didn’t know what to make of that thought. He could remember the kisses as clear as day and whatever had happened to him, it hadn’t affected his memory. He remembered not only kissing, but how, at first at least, Virgil had kissed _back_. Roman could recall his own sparkling delight at that, a heated pleasure that rushed through him at the thought that Virgil wanted to kiss him, along with the desire to push things further, faster. Which wasn’t like him, and it all could have ended very badly indeed. 

Yet Virgil hadn’t taken advantage of him at all. Or, so far as he could tell, done anything that would make Roman feel used or dirty. He was painfully aware of how much worse it could have been. Yet Virgil had been... kind. It was all very confusing. Yet another confusing thing to add to his list. 

Outside his door sat an unopened bottle of water. Roman didn’t have it in him to be suspicious of that, accepting it for what it hopefully was; just water. He swallowed the whole thing in a matter of moments, ignoring the voice in his head that said you were supposed to sip water when you felt rough. It was cold, refreshing, as though it had come out of the fridge mere seconds before and yet Roman hadn’t heard a sound, any hint that Virgil was upstairs. 

Almost mechanically, he went through the motions of getting ready. A shower, doing his hair, putting on new clothes and generally just trying to make himself look presentable. The bottle of water seemed to be doing wonders for him and although Roman still felt more than a little sick and hungover, he didn’t feel like the walking dead anymore so it was a huge improvement on earlier. 

The only problem was now he was finished, he had no excuse not to go downstairs in search of his demonic roommate. It would be easier just to hide in his room for the rest of the day and put off the confrontation but Roman had never done the easy thing since coming here and he wasn’t about to start now. He needed to talk to Virgil, he needed to _understand_ and he wasn’t going to gain anything shutting himself away in his room for another day. 

Swallowing heavily, Roman made his way downstairs. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to find Virgil actually down there as well instead of out or hiding in his room. 

The demon was perched on the end of the couch furthest from the door, hunched over himself, shoulders so high that for a moment Roman almost mistook them for wings. He was staring at the television in the corner as though there was the most interesting show in the world on it - except it was turned off, and all Virgil was really staring at was a blank dark screen, both of their reflections visible within. He hadn’t seemed to react at all to Roman’s present, yet he had no doubt that the demon knew he was there.

Almost as though he was giving Roman the chance to start the conversation and take just a fraction of control back. 

Before today, Roman would have scoffed at himself for thinking such a thing, for bothering to give Virgil the benefit of any doubt and yet now he couldn’t help but wonder if that was exactly what he was doing. If this whole thing was a trick to make Roman trust him then he was doing a damn good job at it and seemed more than willing to play the ridiculously long game. Roman wasn’t completely convinced that it wasn’t a con of course. For all he knew, Logic and Virgil had planned that together, but despite his mother’s warnings, despite _everything_ Roman found that he almost wanted to trust Virgil.

At least Virgil had never lied to him. As far as he knew. 

Movements were even slower now, forcing himself to move once more, to willingly come closer to Virgil until he was standing directly in front of him, blocking his view of the silent television. Still, the demon didn’t react, didn’t speak. If it wasn’t for the way his chest was rising and falling, Roman might have almost thought he was a statue or in some strange sleep. 

“Hey...” Roman offered quietly

Virgil’s eyes flickered up to meet his own before looking away again, hunching himself even further into his hoodie, as though he was seeking to physically vanish within it. 

“Hey,” he replied. Somehow, Virgil managed to look the more uncomfortable out of the two of them. How was that even possible? Not to mention, that was another odd thing. Virgil wasn’t making fun of him, wasn’t teasing or gloating about either the failed escape attempt or the way in which Roman had thrown himself at him. He still wasn’t acting as Roman expected, and that made him hover somewhere between relief and fury. It made no sense, and he hated it. Both Virgil’s actions and his own feelings. 

“You want to sit?” Virgil asked at last, cocking his head towards the actual seats on the couch. Roman almost flung himself down on one, the demon shifting his whole body so he was turned towards him, feet on the cushion. He was wearing dark purple socks with tiny gold stars on them and suddenly, Roman didn’t feel so afraid of him anymore. It was hard to imagine someone evil wearing something like that. Not that that thought made his next question any easier to ask. 

“What... um... what, was... that?” Roman stumbled over his words as he tried to find a way to describe the fact they had kissed without actually having to say that they had done that. Thankfully, Virgil seemed to understand what he was asking, the hooded male giving a deep, heavy sigh. For some reason, it didn’t annoy him as much as he would have accepted. The sigh didn’t seem directed at him so much as at Virgil himself, something tired and sad. 

“That was Logic’s influence,” Virgil replied. Roman simply looked at him, silently asking for more information and he had sort of guessed it was Logic. It was good to know he was right - and good to know that it hadn’t been Virgil’s doing - but that didn’t actually explain what it was.

“He’s a demon of Gluttony,” Virgil added. That made even less sense, Roman’s forehead wrinkling a little in confusion as he frowned at him, trying to make sense of the two lines. Virgil said those words as if it should make perfect sense and yet it did nothing of the sort. No amount of focusing and frowning was going to make the words magically make sense, Roman shaking his head a moment later, 

“That... what, I don’t get it. Gluttony? What, like you’re a demon of... what did you say? Fear?”

“That’s right. Sorry, I kinda forgot? That you don’t know how it works down here. I meant to tell you more but...” he trailed off, tactfully not mentioning the fight they had last time they had properly talked. At least Virgil wasn’t blaming him for that and Roman still didn’t think he was really in the wrong but he was willing to take part of the responsibility.

“Okay, so tell me now?” 

“Right so. You have a demon right? But there are different types of demon, I guess like... like nationalities almost? It isn’t quite the same, you can have a demon of Fear but their parent be Desire or Envy for example. Logic is a demon of Gluttony and so he can affect hungers within you, but it's so much more than just your appetite when it comes to food. He can take the smallest, passing fancy and blow it up into an all consuming desire that overwhelms everything else within you.” 

That... made sense. Some kind of sense at least. Finally, Roman was getting some answers, some understanding as to how this place worked. It helped, gave him a solid ground to work on, although it didn’t begin to explain some of the things that he wanted to know. Still, it was better than nothing. Virgil was an odd contradiction, his words seemed almost relaxed, tone casual but his body language was still screaming defensiveness. Either way, he seemed willing to answer Roman’s questions and he didn’t want to lose this momentum. 

“Then why is he called Logic if he’s a hunger or whatever demon? Why not, I dunno, appetite or something?”

“Because, like I just said, hunger can be more than just food. In Logic’s case, he has a hunger for knowledge, and because of that, he selected something that reflects what he wants out of life. You don’t pick what type of demon you are, that’s just... what you are. Like being a human or whatever. But you do pick your title within that, and you base that name on what you want and how you go about getting it. Like Logic who wants as much information as he can possibly get. Only, because he’s a gluttony demon his own appetites will never be sated. Or Antagonist, demon of Pride. He is a handful.”

Okay. Okay. That was a lot of information, but he could work with that. It did make a sort of sense, it followed a path that Roman could understand at least. He lifted a finger to his mouth, unconsciously tapping at his bottom lip as he thought.

“And you’re... Anxiety?” Roman asked slowly, connecting what little he already knew to this vast wealth of new knowledge. Why would anyone want anxiety out of life? 

“I should have said most pick a name they want, an aspect of their type they represent,” Virgil told him, voice shifting into something gruffer, harsher. He looked away at last - at least, Roman assumed he looked away, head tilting to stare towards the window instead of him. It was hard to be sure when he had that fringe arranged so artfully over those striking purple eyes.

Those pretty purple eyes... he blinked a couple of times, the stray thought dancing across his mind almost without his being aware of it. A last lingering thought from Logic no doubt, Roman firmly pushing the thought down and away from this moment as best he could. Virgil was talking again once more. 

“I am Anxiety yeah. Doesn’t mean I want that.” 

Roman opened his mouth to complain, to point out how annoying that was, that he would explain how something worked here at last, only to then turn around and prove himself the opposite to the rule. What was the point in that? A second later however, he closed his mouth once more, the words unsaid. There had been something about the way Virgil had said that last line, a hint of a secret pain that surprised Roman. Virgil had appeared almost upset at being Anxiety. Roman wanted to know why of course but this hardly seemed the time. They had managed to form some kind of brief truce and he was loath to ruin it by pushing for answers for something that wasn’t vital for him to know, no matter how badly he wanted to get at the truth. 

Idly, he found himself wondering if there were curiosity demons. He would have to be careful if there was.

“Look... Roman... you can’t try and run away again, I might not get to you in time and there are worse out there than Logic... I don’t want to use the scroll on you...” Virgil was picking his words with great care, as if he was making his way through a field of landmines, each one on a hair trigger. Roman stared at him, eyes narrowed. 

He could almost see the ‘but’ in the air around them, the implication that Virgil might not _like_ it, but he would still do it if he had to. He would appear sorry about it, he might even say the words, but Roman didn’t doubt that he would pull out that contract and tie him even tighter to it unless Roman behaved. But would Virgil even believe him if he said he wasn’t going to try again?

_Would_ he try again?

Honestly, Roman wasn’t sure. He certainly wasn’t eager to run into Logic again or any of the other demons that were apparently lurking around just waiting for a human to come along. Roman still didn’t really know what they did to them. He knew it involved pain, but that was such a vague, weird thing and not any help at all. Did they just enjoy it? Get off on the sight of suffering? Or was there something deeper at play? As much as Roman wanted to find out, he drew the line at finding out via a practical demonstration. 

At the same time though, he couldn’t just give up and accept the cage Virgil was offering him. If he didn’t try and escape he would be stuck here, for the rest of his life it seemed.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to answer by the sound of something tapping against the window. In a flash, faster than he could see, Virgil had moved from his spot on the arm of the coach to press himself again the pane of glass. Hand lifted, fingers spread wide as he stared at the source of the noise. A raven sat perched on the outside. It stared back at him, making no attempt to either fly away or tap again.

For what felt like the longest time, nobody moved. The air felt thick around him, a tension that Roman didn’t understand. It was obviously more than a bird, but knowing what it wasn’t didn’t really help him. All he could be sure of, was that once again, he was missing something important. 

Then finally, Virgil slumped, shoulders dropping along with his hand. He shifted a little, pushing the window open and allowing the bird to glide gracefully inside. 

It made a leisurely circuit of the room, and Roman couldn’t shake the distinct impression that the bird was examining everything carefully. Himself included. He felt almost small under the black beady eyed gaze of the creature, as though it had spent time examining him only to find him unworthy. 

With a soft caw like sound, the bird swooped, landing gracefully upon Virgil’s shoulder. It’s sharp beak was turned towards his neck, and although it didn’t make any further sounds, Virgil jumped a little. His eyes were wide as he stared at the creature, some sort of silent conversation going on between them. 

Virgil went pale. 

Roman had already thought he was as pale as it was possible for someone to be without being dead, but it seemed as though that was yet another thing he was wrong about. Now he looked physically ill, one second away from fainting or worse. Whatever was happening, the demon clearly didn’t like it and if it was something Virgil didn’t like, he could only imagine how much he was going to hate it. 

The raven spread its wings out, ruffling them in the air before it took flight once more, gliding out of the window and out of Roman’s life with the same bizarre efficiency that it had used to enter it. Virgil hadn’t moved from his spot, frozen in place and staring at a shoulder that no longer held a bird. 

“Oh... we’re in trouble..” The words were whispered more than anything else, but Roman heard them all the same. All the casual confidence had gone from Virgil’s voice and he no longer made even a token effort to attempt that he wasn’t affected by whatever the bird had done. Roman could feel his own heart rate picking up as a result, a mix of nervous anticipation and fear. 

“Trouble? Virgil, what is going on?” Roman didn’t really want to know the answer, if only because he was sure he wouldn’t like it. Still, he needed to know, if only to try and prepare himself. Roman didn’t want another surprise dropped on in the manner of learning demons were real and he belonged to one.

Virgil swallowed a couple of times, mouth opening and closing in a jerky, almost broken fashion. He reminded Roman of a puppet whose strings were not quite attached correctly and so didn’t behave as it should. 

With a great effort, Virgil forced the words out from his lips, still frozen in place, almost stunned by his own words. 

“My father is coming to visit.”


	6. More than the Wars of our Fathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems as if demons are not immune to having awkward relationships with their parents - which could be bad for Roman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And welcome back everybody! I hope you all had a good start to the year. Apologies once again for leaving it so long between chapters. This is a story I love to write, yet never seem to have the time I want to spend on it. Fingers crossed it won’t be months between updates next time. Because this chapter was fun and set up a lot of fun stuff. As well as introducing another character.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left comments, they really mean everything. Let me know what you think of this one!
> 
> Chapter title is once more from _Meant to Live_ by **Switchfoot**. 
> 
> Tumblr gonna tumblr, come say hi at @theeternalspace

** **

### More than the Wars of our Fathers

** **

Roman hadn’t been able to get much more information out of Virgil after that. The demon had all but run from the house, promising he would be back soon but until then Roman should try and drink some more and recover his strength. He had seemed panicked, distracted, his thoughts on the approaching visit rather than anything else.

It didn’t escape Roman’s notice however, that Virgil still took an extra second to make sure the door was locked behind him as he left.

With nothing else to really do, Roman had taken his advice. Another full bottle snagged from the fridge had gone the same way as the first, a third one held loosely between his fingers as he wandered back upstairs. Just when he got one set of questions answered, a whole new lot appeared. Whoever Virgil’s father was, the mere thought of him visiting had sent his captor into a mad panic. Did that mean Roman should worry too? Or would the old maxim hold true; the enemy of my enemy is my friend?

Not that he really thought of Virgil as an enemy anymore.

It was just all so confusing. Roman needed more answers, but he knew he wasn’t going to get those until Virgil actually came back. So he had to entertain himself till then, with no idea of how long it could be. Until yesterday, Roman spent most of his time working on escape plans, searching the house and memorising which step creaked when he put weight on it, which doors were the quietest and the best routes to get from one point to another within the house. He didn’t want to do any of that today. 

Instead, Roman pulled his suitcases up from the side of the bed and deposited them on top, opening the lids to start to sort his belongings out. He had never taken more than clothes or a book out at a time, some part of him fearing that if he did that, it would be as good as accepting that he was stuck here for the foreseeable future. 

He still worried about that, but there had been something in the way Virgil had said his father was coming, a note of panic that had been too intense to be faked. It had made Roman wonder a lot about the relationship between the two demons as well as what the father might think about a human soul living in the same house in comfort. Roman didn’t look as if he had been tortured and the dad might not like that. This way, he could look broken, tamed and that would hopefully be enough. 

The father might be annoyed that Roman hadn’t unpacked. Normally, that was something else he wouldn’t care about but right now keeping Virgil sort of on his side seemed like the wisest course of action. At least with Virgil, he hadn’t tried to hurt him and he was quite literally, better the devil you know. Roman didn’t want to be the cause of friction between the two, not if Virgil was going to continue giving him useful information.

Better to unpack and make it appear as though he was resigned and broken to the idea of belonging here. Maybe he would be lucky and Virgil would fall for it too, in which case he would lower his guard. It was a brilliant plan honestly, and Roman wasn’t sure why he hadn’t thought of it before. 

Roman wasn’t sure how much time had passed while he unpacked and found new homes for all his stuff, putting up his pictures, slotting his books into their own sort of order on the bookcase. The room was starting to look as though it was actually lived in, instead of some barren, hotel room by the time he heard the front door open once more. 

Eyes were fixed blankly on the wardrobe, half his clothes neatly put away, the rest still in untidy piles beside his suitcase. Suddenly, he couldn’t help but worry that he had made a mistake by unpacking. What if this whole thing - Virgil being nice to him, his father’s planned visit, even Logic - had all been part of a trick to make Roman give in and now he was falling for it?

His thoughts twisted and turned in on themselves, tormenting him. So much so that Roman didn’t hear the telltale creak of stairs as weight was put upon it. He didn’t hear anything until a soft but deliberate cough came to his ears, forcing Roman to lift his gaze from the clothing. 

“Hey...” Virgil stood hovering in the doorway to the room, a distinctly uncomfortable look on his face. It was hard to believe that the emo in front of him was a demon at all, let alone one that could possibly be playing a long con on Roman for his own twisted reasons. Then again, you never suspected the quiet ones. That was part of their strength and cunning. Roman found that he didn’t want to believe the worst of Virgil anymore. 

Maybe that was the kiss, maybe it was the way the short demon had seemed to slot so perfectly against him, how he had appeared willing to protect Roman without expecting anything in return. Maybe it was the way Roman had known that Virgil wanted to carry on kissing him, but had resisted that urge. Roman wasn’t confident to the point of arrogance, but he knew the signs to tell if someone was interested in him and Virgil had acted _very_ interested. You couldn’t fake that. Maybe it would all turn out to be a lie, but for the first time Roman was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, just to see what would happen. Even if it turned out to be a terrible mistake on his part. 

Carefully, Roman examined Virgil. He seemed slightly calmer than before if nothing else and Roman wanted to ask where he had gone and what had happened to make him relax. It wasn’t what they _needed_ to talk about however and he had to ask first. 

“I guess we need to talk about your father?”

“Yeah...” Virgil drew the word out as he spoke, very reluctant and still not moving closer. 

“You want to come in?” Roman offered, scarcely able to believe his own words. Virgil clearly wasn’t going to enter without his permission though. It was such a small yet important thing, for the demon to show time and time again that he was going to respect Roman’s boundaries, let him have his own space. No matter how annoyed Virgil had gotten with him over this last week, the only time he had come into this room was the very first night when he had brought an unconscious Roman to the bed. 

That shouldn’t be where the bar was. And yet there it sat, so low even a literal demon could get over it.

Gingerly, Virgil shuffled inside, glancing around a little as he did. If Virgil had any thoughts about how Roman had finally decided to decorate and unpack, he thankfully kept them to himself, choosing instead to simply perch on the very edge of the bed, lightly swinging his right leg backwards and forwards. Roman could recognise a restless motion when he saw one. He bit down on the inside of his lip to keep himself from commenting on it and no matter how annoying he instantly found it, Virgil probably barely even realised he was doing it. 

“So, your dad?” Roman reminded as the silence stretched on between them. His own nerves were starting to rise, a twisting horrible mess of worry and anxiety that was just getting worse with every passing moment. He had been blessed with a very good imagination, which quite often helped him get through day to day life but right now it was more a curse than anything else. It was running away from him, suggesting all sorts of reasons as to why Virgil had reacted the way he had on the subject of his dad coming to visit, each one worse than the last. Guilty, Virgil gave a start and shifted his body a fraction, tilting it more towards Roman.

“So, my dad,” he repeated back, sighing softly as he did. “Look when... I mean. I told you before that I wasn’t the demon that made the deal for your soul, and that was true. It was my dad who convinced your parents to take the deal, he signed the contract with them.”

“Your dad owns my soul?” Roman wasn’t really sure what to make of that, but Virgil was shaking his head before he could properly consider the idea. 

“No, he gave me your contract. You were...” Virgil trailed off, giving a soft cough and looking away from Roman to stare at the half open wardrobe. He suddenly looked even more awkward and unsure than ever before. Considering how this conversation had started, that was a huge achievement. 

“You were kind of a birthday present.” 

Roman blinked. He stared at Virgil and blinked again, but those words remained hovering in his mind, taunting him. A... birthday present? He was a person, a living, breathing human being who had hopes and dreams and a whole life in front of him. And some demon had given him to Virgil like you might a gift voucher or piece of jewellery? 

“Well, at least your dad has good taste,” Roman said faintly, wondering if the right response was to laugh or to scream. It was absurd. His whole life had turned stupid and impossible and he was someone’s birthday present? Virgil hunched up further, looking small and sad. It was harder and harder to see the demon’s reactions as anything other than genuine. He seemed truly in pain, worried by Roman’s reaction. Nowhere had he said he had wanted Roman for a present - no, Virgil had made it clear on several occasions that he didn’t like the situation either, claims that Roman had treated with the contempt he had felt they deserved. Now, he was less sure. 

“I... I’m not a very good son you see,” Virgil confessed, Roman making a soft noise of encouragement without paying much attention to what he was actually saying. He was still reeling from the revelation that he had been nothing more than a glorified present and what was wrong with getting your kid a puppy or something! Roman breathed in through his nose and very carefully ignored the thought that many of his friends had affectionarly compared him to a sunny, happy dog in the past.

“My dad gave you to me but he retained the right of final refusal. Which basically means, if I let you go and destroy your contract, you aren’t actually free. You’d just revert back to belonging to my dad and then he decides what to do with you and trust me, he would never let you go. And you don’t want to belong to him.” 

Virgil was still talking, Roman blinking and refocusing on the moment. Almost monologuing now and Roman couldn’t recall ever hearing so much from the demon in one go before. He was almost spilling out all the secrets, opening up after a whole week of barely saying a whole sentence at a time to Roman. Who was Virgil trying to convince with those words? Roman... or himself? There was an air of desperation to them, a hint of fear in the air. It didn’t make any sense.

“Why would he do that?”

“Hades, I don’t know. Any number of reasons? I’m not a good son like I said. Not a good... not a good demon. He’s a control freak, he couldn’t bear to give up a single soul, not even to his only son? Or maybe he was worried I would be a rebellious teen and give you back just to spite him, which, not gonna lie, I had considered. Or he thinks I’m soft, he probably knew I wouldn’t do what he expected me to do with you, but this way I can’t let you go.” Virgil’s hands were rising and falling as he spoke, frantic gestures which betrayed the desperation the demon was apparently still feeling. 

That... made a weird sort of sense actually. Roman had been very lucky in his parents - the whole selling their firstborn to a demon issue notwithstanding and _how_ had he reached the point where he could think of it so casually - but he had known plenty of friends who hadn't. Ones who had overly controlling parents, who insisted on playing a dominant role in their child’s life. They would be monitored, questioned, spied upon. There had even been one father that had installed spy software on his daughters phone, who had managed to get quite the wrong impression about the relationship Roman and his daughter had. The encounter with the father had been... fraught to say the least.

Those were the parents that had found themselves distrusted, who had children who acted out. Ones that sometimes went as far as to _cut_ them out. If that was what it could be like for human children, how much worse could it be for a demon child? 

And why was he feeling sympathy towards Virgil? Why did he suddenly care? Just because Virgil had been nice when he didn’t need to be, because he had looked after him. Saved him. Refused to take advantage of him. Okay, it was mostly the last one. 

This got more confusing all the time. 

“And there is something else... you know how I said demon’s don’t lie?” Virgil asked softly, thankfully oblivious to the rant that was going on inside of Roman’s head. 

“Yeah...” Roman said slowly, and the ‘but’ was almost deafening in its silence around them. Virgil seemed to hear it too, the dark haired demon giving a small, barely there nod as though to acknowledge it. 

“My dad... my dad lies. I mean, people here literally know him as Deceit. He’s a demon of Envy and he doesn’t always lie, but he is the exception to the rule of demons and truth. He’ll try and twist you up, you have to always be on your guard when he speaks because more than any other demon, he wants to play. That’s how he sees it. Everything is all some giant game to him and he has to win. No matter the cost.” 

Virgil’s tone had turned increasingly bitter as he spoke, as well as colder. The ice in the last four words made Roman want to shiver a little, as well as find out exactly what Virgil’s dad could have done to make him feel like that. Somehow, he felt it was more than just one situation. More than giving him a human he had never wanted. Virgil lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck.

“I wish R-Sleep was here.” The words were muttered so quietly that for a moment Roman wasn’t sure if he had actually heard him correctly. They didn’t make a lot of sense. 

“R-Sleep?” Roman was getting really tired of parroting words back or asking questions but at the same time he had no idea how long this sudden surge of openness would last. He needed to get as much information as he could. Preferably before Virgil remembered how Roman had tried to run away. 

They hadn’t talked about his grand escape attempt yet - there hadn’t been a good moment to do so, attention taken up first by the aftermath of the kiss and then the drama that was Virgil’s dad. Roman doubted he would get away with it for good. Sooner or later, Virgil was going to remember and get angry. It wasn’t a fight Roman was looking forward too because despite everything he couldn’t lie and say he regretted it. He had needed to try and he would need to try again. It wasn’t in his nature to be a docile little sheep. 

“Just Sleep,” Virgil explained and that sounded more like a demon title. “He’s my friend. Best, only, forever friend, whatever you want to call it. He would know what to do but Dad really doesn’t approve of him so I can’t really ask him over as that will cause a fight and I can’t afford that right now. I don’t have to get on with my Dad, but I can’t afford to get into a full blown war with him. Not at the moment.”

“Yeah, let’s try to avoid war for the moment,” he agreed and as tempting as it was to encourage the two to fight in the hope he could sneak off during the chaos, Roman wasn’t that naive anymore. For better or worse, he needed Virgil. For now at least. 

“Oh, one more thing. A really important thing.”

“Seriously? What could be more important than all the other bombshells you’ve dropped on me Virgil?” Roman’s head was still spinning. The sheer list of things he had learnt was enough to make it twist, from being a birthday present, to the exception to the rule that was Virgil’s father, to the fact that it seemed as though the other demon could take him back. And now, after meeting Logic, Roman found he believed Virgil when he said he was the best of a bad bunch. That didn’t mean he wanted to stay here any more than he had before, but he could see the deep blue sea and the devil he was stuck between.

As he had thought before, better the devil you know.

“That,” Virgil told him simply. Roman lifted an eyebrow in silent questioning, and he wasn’t going to ask yet another verbal question. Not after being led around by the nose for so long already. If Virgil wanted him to do - or not do - something and it was that important, then he was going to have to come out and actually say it, rather than drop all sorts of cryptic comments. Virgil sighed softly. It wasn’t put upon or angry, it seemed more tired than anything, the other male lifting a hand to wipe it across his face. He _looked_ tired as well, exhausted by everything.

For the first time, Roman actually let himself think how hard it had to be for Virgil to be in this position. If he was telling the truth and he didn’t actually want a human of course. But if he was, then he was stuck with someone he didn’t want as a roommate, someone he wouldn’t kick out because of the terrible fate that would then happen to him. He was stuck with Roman. No, not only that, he was actively protecting Roman, he had gone after him when it would have been easy enough to take the escape as an excuse to not have to deal with him. 

“My name. You can’t... please don’t use my name in front of my dad. Call me Anxiety, demon, thing, any insult you want but you can’t use my actual name. Please.” 

“Okay...” Roman said slowly, eyebrows pulled into a puzzled frown. “But why?”

For a long moment, he was convinced that Virgil wasn’t going to answer. The demon had turned his head, looking at the door instead of him and Roman could almost sense the conflict in him, the desire to explain and the desire to just run away from his problems and avoid the conversation completely. Thankfully, explaining won out, Virgil’s head rolling back on his neck as he tilted it upwards, attention now fixed on the ceiling. 

“Because... because I’m sorry Roman but my dad doesn’t see humans as people. You’re... food. Entertainment. A source of power and maybe comfort sure but you’re not people to him. At best, he would consider you a glorified pet, it would amuse him that I had given you a room and stuff. At worst, he is in one of his tempers and he’ll get furious you’re not a shriveled up husk already or in a cage.”

Well. That was a pleasant image. A dried out husk was not what Roman wanted from his life, and maybe it was a good thing that Virgil wasn’t a normal demon. He didn’t like the idea of a cage either. Roman carefully filed away those thoughts for another day. He could freak out about that later, could worry about what his life would be like if Virgil ever got bored of him. Or, if this turned out to be a trick after all and he got bored of pretending. 

“That still doesn’t explain why I can’t use your name,” Roman pointed out and he felt just as confused as before. He had already guessed that. It had been one of the few things that he had worked out himself, that Virgil’s dad clearly didn’t share his son’s attitude to humans. 

“It’s like I said. Names are power. Never give your name to a demon and in the same token, a demon will almost never give their true name to you. They will share their names with friends, other demons if they so wish but not to a human. Certainly not casually.” Virgil gave a small shrug as he spoke, simply explaining the facts of life. 

What a horrible way to live. Not knowing the real name of people around you unless they trusted you enough to give it. And if that was the norm then they probably only rarely trusted. There had to be a reason why they were so hesitant and Roman could picture it perfectly; demon turning against demon. Betrayal the norm and having to constantly be on your guard. It sounded exhausting, terrible and the power that came with it did not seem like a fair trade.

There was, however, one problem with what Virgil had just said. If names were truly as important as he was now saying, then why would he have told Roman his own name? Roman hadn’t even asked for it, he certainly hadn’t cared to learn it. And surely, Virgil didn’t trust him. If he did, he wouldn’t lock the door every time he went out.

Then again, considering what happened last time he had left the door unlocked, he was probably right not to trust Roman. Even now, he couldn't honestly say he wouldn't try and escape again because he didn't know. If an exit magically appeared in front of him, he would have to try and take it.

“You did.”

“I did,” Virgil agreed. “It didn’t seem... right, me having all the power. The least I could do was give you a piece of myself back but dad doesn't know I did that so please... don’t use it.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Roman had already agreed to it, but it was clear that Virgil needed the extra encouragement. And this, at least, was an easy thing to promise. He wasn't going to bite the hand that feeds him. Not until he had gotten the full measure of this Deceit anyway. Which wasn't an encouraging name but neither was Anxiety honestly. It seemed as though sharing names with humans was something of a taboo among demons. Almost against his will, Roman felt a little bit of pride, that Virgil would trust him enough. That he offered his name up to him and tried to give him a little something back.

"Dad will already know your name obviously but he's not going to tell anyone. He wouldn't do anything that gave another demon power." Virgil carried on talking, Roman absently nodding his head. Virgil had done a lot for him. And okay, he still had kidnapped him, it was still thanks to Virgil that Roman was trapped but he believed it could be a lot worse.

More importantly, he believed that right now, Virgil’s dad was worse. He had an ally of sorts as it stood and he wasn’t willing to lose that. 

Teeth caught at his bottom lip, Roman frowning thoughtfully as he considered the problem carefully. This was like acting right? He had to play the part, he had to go along with the stage directions until they were safe. Virgil - no Anxiety, he should start using that name in his head for now, get himself used to it again - Anxiety had to play a role as well. It stood to reason that Deceit would test them. He wouldn’t just trust everything was going according to whatever plan he had because again, it was a matter of trust. Something demons didn’t have.

And if Roman had been a demon, who wanted to test someone, he had a couple of ideas of how to go about it. The most obvious one involving the contract that had to be hidden somewhere in this house. And that meant - that meant; well, that meant that Roman needed to be brave for what he was about to say. 

"Listen, I know you don't need my permission or anything, it isn't like I could stop you but..." Roman trailed off, his courage suddenly deserting him. What had he been thinking? It was a ridiculous idea, and as he had started to say Vi-Anxiety could just use the scroll regardless. He certainly didn’t need Roman to suggest it. And if Roman _did_ suggest it, what did that mean for his long term prospects? Was he giving up another piece of himself? Then again, if it was just for the play they were putting on... he wanted it to go well. It was all confusing, doubts and worries pulling at each other in his mind.

He looked down at his hands. Roman’s fingers were curled against each other, creating tight little fists that betrayed how uncomfortable he actually was. This was a beyond stupid idea, this was him offering himself up to the slaughter and willingly signing his life away. He lifted his head again, intent on telling the other to forget it, only to find that Anxiety had shifted a little closer while he was distracted. He was staring at Roman with those unnatural purple eyes, a surprisingly large amount of warmth and concern shining in them. From what little Roman could actually see of them of course, the demon’s eyes somewhat hidden by his bangs.

Despite himself, Roman couldn't help but remember their kiss. The feel of Anxiety’s soft lips against his own, the way the shorter demon had seemed to fit so perfectly in his arms. The thoughts of how right this had been and how the Roman of that moment would have quite happily spent the rest of his life worshipping Anxiety as he desired. And deserved. It had been a slave's thoughts, nothing more. It wasn’t the sort of person Roman was.

No matter how nice the kiss had been. Anxiety had tasted of cherries, just a little hint of tartness to go with the sweet. That didn’t matter. Nothing of that sort mattered because it was never going to happen again. 

“Sorry,” Anxiety said suddenly, shaking Roman from his thoughts and distracting him momentarily from what he had planned to say.

“Sorry about... what?” Roman asked and the list of potential topics was just so large that he couldn’t even begin to guess which one Anxiety had picked. They had each made nothing but mistakes since they had first met each other although Roman was still convinced that he was more sinned against than sinning. Anxiety huffed, a lock of hair flying off his face at the motion, only to instantly drop back down and obscure his gaze somewhat.

“You’re afraid. That’s... my fault. Demon of Fear you know. I don’t even mean to do it most of the time but I’m called Anxiety for a reason.”

He didn’t exactly sound thrilled by that. It had to be a rubbish demonic power if you weren’t into that sort of thing, being able to create and influence fear. It seemed more limiting as well and sure, there was no end of what you could make people afraid _of_ but it didn’t seem to be like Logic. He couldn't twist the meaning of his type and anyway, from what Anxiety had said of Logic, he was more than just a demon of Gluttony. He felt the hunger himself, he was consumed in some ways by his own trait, caught up in the effect of it. Did that mean that Anxiety was constantly afraid? He certainly showed all the signs of being nervous and anxious enough at times. The emo was a walking stereotype of anxiety and dark edginess. 

It felt... weird, using that title in his head. It dehumanised him, which, Roman knew, was probably the right thing to do. Anxiety wasn't human and he shouldn't forget that. 

“All demons can affect humans, various strengths depending on how hard they are trying and how susceptible the person is to that emotion. You’re strong, you can barely feel my influence. But you can still feel it. You can still fear, and when it's heightened... that’s because of me.” 

As always, Roman had to weigh the words against the fear that he was being manipulated in some way. Sometimes, he almost hated the fact that he was starting to believe Anxiety’s side of things more and more. It made him want to trust him, and he couldn’t help but fear this was the first step of Stockholm Syndrome. How would he know the difference? How could he tell if he honestly was starting to trust him because the demon was proving himself worthy of that or if his mind was being twisted against his will? 

So many questions continue to churn in his mind, with so few answers. Anxiety did seem honest in his concern and guilt though, and Roman had to trust his own gut feelings. If he couldn’t trust himself, then he truly would be lost. 

“It’s... well I can’t very well say it's okay, now can I. That would be a lie. But if you say you honestly don’t mean it then I. Well, I believe you. And that makes it as okay as it is possible to get. If you can’t help yourself, then you can’t help yourself. I mean, I can’t help being a gorgeous human being with an amazing voice.” 

He was aiming for a light tone, to bring the conversation to a more enjoyable topic because Roman didn’t know how much more drama he could take this second. So why had he called himself gorgeous? It was too late to take the words back though, Roman refused to backtrack. He lifted his chin a little instead, sticking it out and almost daring Anxiety to do his worse. 

Anxiety snorted lightly, hand lifting to his mouth to cover the expression, as though a laugh was something shameful. His eyes were wrinkled around the edges and Roman found himself smiling back, reassured that the demon wasn’t actually going to make fun of him for his worse. Or... something else. What that something else was, Roman wasn’t really sure. He would have to think about it later, when the threat of the dad wasn’t hanging over him. There had to be some reason why he said what he had, but Anxiety was speaking again, finally pulling his hand away from his mouth. 

“Anyway, you were going to say something?”

“Oh. Oh yeah. I was going to say... if you need to use that scroll. Or whatever. If you have to prove a point to your dad, then I’m telling you now I will understand. So long as you only do it during his visit. I mean, we have to sell it, don't we?”

Anxiety stared at him, mouth dropping open. He made no attempt to disguise his shock, all traces of humour dropping away. Some part of Roman couldn’t help but feel pleased by that. It was... encouraging, to know that he could still surprise the demon, that not everything was decided by the other. 

“Thank... thank you. I swear, if I do, it won’t be anything cruel. Or anything you would hate,” he promised, and again, Roman found himself believing it. What else could he do? Roman just hoped that this wouldn’t come back to haunt him later.

“So what happens next?”

“We wait for the blow to land.”

\--

The blow - as Anxiety called it - was not long in coming.

Only a few hours had passed since the conversation. There had been a nervous tension in the air around them as they went through the motions, trying to act as normally as they could. There was a stiffness to it however, an unnatural undercurrent in every action. Anxiety didn’t want to leave the house. He sat in the living room on his phone or picking at his nails, his gaze returning again and again towards the front door, intently listening for any sign that there was someone coming. He seemed to be guarding the downstairs, worried perhaps that Roman would try and escape again. Or worried that his dad might be able to sneak in if he went to his bedroom. 

Which left Roman hiding in his room. He couldn’t stay there all day however, not with his stomach started to rumble, pointing out that it had been hours since he had eaten. Reluctantly, Roman made his way downstairs and towards the kitchen. Anxiety’s eyes tracked him across the room, following his progress before he returned to trying to look interested in his phone. All Roman had to do was keep going but he found himself pausing at the entrance to the kitchen. For a couple of seconds he debated with himself before sighing and turning back towards the demon.

“Do you... um... look, I’m gonna cook. You want some too?” Roman asked. Anxiety blinked a couple of times, gaze distant before he nodded silently. Well. Roman wasn’t sure what response he had wanted, but at least he had gotten something. And making food for two would hopefully distract him. 

He had only gotten as far as getting the ingredients out before there was a knock at the door. Instantly, the false calm of the moment was shattered. Anxiety was up and over the back of the couch in a matter of seconds, Roman just able to see the very back of his black checked hoodie as he hurried down the hallway. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, silently counting backwards from ten in his head. A silly habit, but one his first drama teacher had taught him. It helped him calm down, focus himself because this was it. Time to put on the performance of a life. _His_ life.

Show time. 

Roman hovered near the kitchen door, straining to hear anything. There was the faint sound of the door being unlocked and opened, the instinctive murmur of voices gradually growing louder as the two demons walked back along the hallway towards the rooms. 

"-o where is your boyfriend?" 

That had to be the dad. And wait, what? Boyfriend? He had expected some comment about how Roman had tried to run away or at the very least some sneering comment about humanity in general. Anxiety had been very clear on how little his dad would think of Roman so why was he calling him his boyfriend and for all the world acting as though that could be a good thing? Had Anxiety been lying to him all this time? Roman was surprised to find his heart hurting a little at the thought that he might have been fooled. 

"Dad! He isn't my boyfriend!" Anxiety's voice had changed. It really sounded like a teenager now, moody, almost whiny. It would have made him smile if he wasn’t so worried. Out of sight, the father laughed. It was a smooth sound, slick. The kind of laugh that would wrap itself around you as if warm and friendly, and then, before you even knew it, it was strangling you. 

"Well not with that attitude he's not! Now come on Anxiety, lead the way. It isn't time I actually met the soul I gave you or anything."

Roman hastily backed up, all the way back to the various vegetables he had been planning to cut up, eyes fixed firmly on the kitchen door. Anxiety entered first. His shoulders were hunched up once more, that same blank look in his eyes as though he was only partly here. It was the man behind him that Roman was interested in though. He was taller than his son, taller than Roman too. 

A wry somewhat mocking smile was stretched across pale lips. It was the sort of smile that hinted the wearer knew a lot more than he was currently letting on. It spoke of age and experience but it wasn’t that which captured Roman’s attention. Pale yellow scales were scattered across one side of his face, his eyes both yellow and gleaming at him. There was an intelligence to that gaze, a sharp, piercing look that made Roman suddenly nervous that this wasn’t going to work. They weren’t going to be able to fool him. 

"Roman, this is my father. Deceit, demon of Envy,” Anxiety muttered, lifting a hand to limply wave in the direction of each other. Deceit nodded slowly, that smile still there. 

"Pleased to meet you I’m sure."

He... didn't _sound_ pleased to meet him. Roman wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to say or do in response. Say he was pleased back? Nod? Shake his hand? Anxiety hadn’t actually gone through the minute details of what they were meant to do and how Roman was supposed to behave in front of him. Cowed? Broken? 

Deceit had turned away before Roman could decide on an appropriate response, pulling a small, round object from under the - was that a cape he was wearing - and tossing it towards Anxiety.

“Son, this is for you.”

Anxiety caught it automatically, fumbling a little as he tried to stop it from falling completely from his hands. He stared down at the object, Roman automatically trying to lean forward just a fraction in order to try and get a better look at whatever it was. It looked rather like a golf ball, albeit black with yellow markings in some strange script. Anxiety’s head snapped back up to look at the two of them, Roman’s eyes widening in shock at the expression there. Because there was life in those purple eyes again now. There was emotion. Fear. Panic. Shock. Hurt.

"Wait!" The cry was desperate, wild, torn from Anxiety’s lips as he took a step towards Deceit. In a flash of fire, Anxiety was just gone, the demon vanishing in a blink of an eye, his hand outstretched towards them both. Roman gaped at the spot where he had been standing only a moment before, nothing remaining except a few whiffs of smoke drifting up towards the ceiling. 

"There. That's better isn't it?” Deceit’s words may have been phrased as a question, but they were clearly anything but, Roman swallowing heavily as he turned to properly face the demon. The demon, that, Roman was acutely aware, he was now completely alone with. Deceit smiled, expression of a predator as he walked - no, it was less walking and more as though he glided - towards Roman, hands lifting to steeple together. 

“Now. What exactly are your intentions towards my son?"


End file.
